Secrets From America
by Lapis Lazuli Ichigo
Summary: Things you probably didn't know about the good old US of A from history to culture. One-Shots and more. Rated T for Tony the alien and controversy. Because nothing is only skin deep with personifications...
1. Serious I

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**Summary**: Things the world never knew about the land of the free.

**Warning**: Dark theme, my grammar, cursing, and some confusion on the part of the other nations. You have been warned.

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><p><strong>Serious I<strong>

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><p>He never seems to take things seriously and although he knows the other nations comment about it (daily and often in front of him) he doesn't care. Can't. Because being too smart, being too intelligent could mean the end of civil life if the other nations had any reason to fear him.<p>

So he had no choice—but to be the exact opposite.

Even if it hurt, and even if the evidence against him meant that he was anything but stupid.

_World Conference_

The look in England's—Arthur's eyes when he has done something incredibly stupid hurts, to see.

He glances to the left, winching inside.

China sends him a look hinting about his debt, subtlety demanding his money, quietly threatening to increase interest, to claim Hawaii—the list goes on….

He turns his attention to the floor as he sits himself down in his seat and trying very hard to ignore the snide remarks and outright criticism that's on everyone's lips during the meeting.

He never felt more alone.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: A sweet, sad little start to beginning. This fanfic will probably be updated every two or three days...though if there are holidays I might take a break, it all just depends.

Anyhow's Please **Read** and** Review**!

It let's me know what you think.


	2. Hates I, Confused I

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**Summary**: Things the world never knew about the land of the free.

**Warning**: Dark theme, my grammar, cursing, and some confusion on the part of the other nations. You have been warned.

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><p><strong>Hates I<strong>

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><p>There are three things America hates more than anything else in the world.<p>

The first is ghosts, not only because they scare him but because he can see them. Often when he's by himself, and sometimes even when he's with the other nations, he can feel them floating around, watching him, glaring at him, asking him to save them from their pain…and he's helpless to do anything.

The second thing is time. No matter how much time passes nothing remains. Friends often turn to enemies, family leaves him, and eventually the world becomes colder, much crueler.

But the final thing is perhaps his greatest regret. He regrets being a nation, because a nation is nothing more than a puppet for others, whether it is time, his children, or a scapegoat for the rest of the world.

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><p><strong>Confused I<strong>

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><p>It's something he notices after a few times.<p>

The others nations will often insult everything about his country, from his fashion trends to his monuments, and yet why do so many of the others copy him?

In Paris, and England, Marc Jacobs designs are so famous his clothing line is a must have for many in the industry.

In China tons of the rich upper class move to him, because many families want more than one child—the list goes on and on…

So why?

It doesn't make any sense, and the more he thinks about it the more he's confused.

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>Pretty much something I've noticed, and researched. Feel free to dispute this in an review or pm.

Anyhow, please** Read **and **Review, **so I know my readers have not vanished off the earth.


	3. Age I & II

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**Summary**: Things the world never knew about the land of the free.

**Warning**: Dark theme, my grammar, cursing, and some confusion on the part of the other nations. You have been warned.

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><p><strong>Age I<strong>

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><p>As a unified nation, America is two hundred and thirty-five years old, but as Alfred F. Jones, personification he has no idea.<p>

His first memories of the world around him were the shallow steps of people of in winter, climbing mountains, and spreading out into a vast land, looking for something he knew they could never have with the rest of their kin—freedom.

Unfortunately, Alfred himself suspects that this realization didn't take place on North American soil no where even remotely close to his 'suppose' founding.

He can also remember when humans first started leaving Africa and even when humans first crossed the ice bridge into North America, before he sleeps waiting.

For what he doesn't know… and its only until he's awaken by Tsenammcoh, Native America does he know, he was waiting for_ them_.

As a personification of searching for freedom, his age is likely to never be known.

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><p><strong>Age II<strong>

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><p>China is always regarded as the oldest of all the nations, yet Alfred suspects he isn't.<p>

Formed from the unification of the Qing dynasty, China himself didn't have an actual identity until someone coined the word 'China'.

At meetings and usually any type of function, China, himself always regards the others as immature 'children' yet, Yao always whines and complains like a teenager, making Alfred doubt his _mature_ attitude often. Because in hindsight, weren't the mature suppose to be above senseless arguing and nagging…?

It what he thinks, but even if Alfred does one day figure out he is the oldest, he will never tell.

Being mature really isn't all it cracked up to be.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Okay, before anyone flames me saying "blah, blah, blah China is the oldest nation or whatever', I'm saying that Alfred represents pure freedom, because I, myself know that America's naming origins are still highly controversial (there's theories it came from Nordic Vikings, then there's Americgo the explorer and so on and so forth), as well as suspect didn't happen immediately, my point is no one knows when America got his name. And lastly, just because I said 'pure' freedom doesn't mean the other nations don't have freedoms too, it just they stand for different definitions of freedom—not the whole whole theory is mainly centered around the fact that once upon a time, all the nations were one person-Pangaea, that eventually split and because the nation we know. Native america got it identity from the established tribes of people who crossed some 15,000 or so years ago, China (Wang Yao) could, arguably be younger than how, take it how ever you want. My stance is Alfred remembers a little of his time as Pangaea, and the rest don't.

Lastly, Please** Read** and** Review**—I love hearing from my readers.


	4. Patriot I

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**Summary**: Things the world never knew about the land of the free.

**Warning**: Dark theme, my grammar, cursing, and some confusion on the part of the other nations. You have been warned.

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><p><strong>Patriot I<strong>

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><p>Alfred winched as another loud shout made its way across the table.<p>

It was hard to believe that so long ago he was an isolationist and cared not for the world's problems. But now, things were much different, and sitting there in the World Conference room, it was easy to see how. As a world superpower, America was both respected and hated, and every action was criticized because he was always suppose to step in and solve everyone's problems, yet if something (or everything goes wrong) he's immediately blamed.

Take this meeting for example—countries from around the global—particularly Europe and the Middle East are nagging him to do this and that, always yelling.

Alfred rubbed his head.

But the worst part of this all is the words his own people…some of which pretend their Canadian, instead of Americans.

It makes a lump form in the back of his throat.

Americans shouldn't be ashamed to be their selves—

"_I don't freaking care who you are, or who you think you are. "_

"_We are—_

Alfred blinks and looks around thinking that perhaps it was another lecture about something else—except the table is quiet, and the voices continue, making a smile appear on his face.

"—_Americans, and we don't take crap—"_

"—_you have a problem with us, state it—"_

"—_but we will ignore all your stereotypes—"_

" –_and cut to point—"_

"—_because we are a nation united under the stars and stripes of freedom."_

Alfred's eyes shined and with newfound courage and energy Alfred made his way to the podium.

Let it be said, after that meeting, nothing was ever the same again.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I kind of had an unexpected inspiration for this one. I was watching a documentary about the space race, and below it dozens of people were blasting America and from the government and us for no particular reason and it made me mad. I AM proud to be an American. So what if we make mistakes, and our government isn't perfect-no one else's is...geez. Sorry going off on an rant. Anyhow's thinking that I started writing this.

So Please...

**Read and Review!**


	5. Home I, & Ghost Extra

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Summary**: America's Houses, and a ghost story...

**Warning**: Dark themes, my grammar, cursing and some confusion on the part of the other nations. You have been warned.

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><p><strong>Home I<strong>

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><p>America has ten homes within his country.<p>

Two of which lay in his Northern most states while the other eight lay in verified ghost towns in the in the Midwest and the South.

These are the homes none of the nations will ever see, because unlike him the danger is far too great. The people trapped inside are both a balm and on a curse on his soul asking and cursing him.

In San Antonio, the spirits are mellow and mischievous playing tricks on him. Stealing his keys and replacing items was their fun, but recently Alfred found they have a slightly sinister side.

Once when an emergency conference was called, and held within San Antonio, England along with three others were forced to stay with him being unable to get a hotel room during fiesta.

It was a week Alfred will never forget.

xxxviixxx

At two in the morning England rushed into his room demanding the release his 'fairies' and to get rid of the grim watching him from the ceiling.

"Wait—what?" Alfred said turning in his chair to get a look at England. He had been up late finishing some late paperwork when his room door was suddenly kicked in. The focus of which created a visible dent in his wall.

"Release my fairies you bloody git." England hissed his hair making him look funny as it spikes up randomly.

Alfred stared at him bewilderment. "I don't have your fairies." He told Arthur, raising his hands in defense. "I don't even believe in your 'magic' so how—no why would I take…them?

England growled and glared at America. "Fine, but if I find out you did—I will kick your arse—"

"Don't you mean ass?" Alfred said smirking egging him on. It wasn't often that the small Briton lost his cool, so the fact he was in his room demanding, rudely his 'friends' was one opportunity Alfred couldn't let pass…

Well, that and Arthur was probably too hung up over his friend to lecture him, or torture him (feeding him something he cooked) properly.

England glared at him stomped off and slamming the door, muttering curses…

Three hours later England ran screaming from the house yelling excuses.

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><p><strong>Ghost Extra<strong>

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><p>Strangers…strangers were coming with nation, with kind Alfred. Wary…unknown…must observe.<p>

England.

China.

Italy.

And Germany…

Italy is strange, but protected.

Ro—me asks for neutrality—agreement, Italy is weak.

Germany, he…loud…but direct... Ro—me will visit—no need to be...there…

China..is different…. And sarcastic will…get…rid

But…

England is mean, very mean… He degrades kind, kind Alfred.

Anger.

_HE .WILL LEAVE._

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Kind of patchy, but I like it. For those of you who don't know many cities in the United States are reported to be haunted, and some are even reported by the Department of Safety to be haunted so it's not so strange. I used San Antonio because I happen to live here, and know the history a bit better so instead of totally messing up another part of the country I figured I'd just use my hometown. The Omake is suppose to be the ghost's in Alfred's house.

On a side note, I'll probably continue this again later to show the re-actions of China, Italy and Germany.

Please **Read and Review**!


	6. No Love Part I & II

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**Summary**: Tests of Time, Friendship, and Pain

**Warning**: Dark themes, my grammar, cursing and some confusion on the part of the other nations. You have been warned.

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><p><strong>No Love I<strong>

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><p>Love between nations is impossible.<p>

Alfred knows this, and although he is certain the others do to—they deny this fact.

Francis and Arthur being two such people, for example.

Hundreds of years ago when both were little more than city-states their relations were simply that of common worries. Fighting for survival, fighting for land—it was all the same for them. Because in those days that was all that matter to them, and their people…

Until something changed.

Alfred himself isn't sure what exactly, but from what he can infer neither can anyone else, what ever happened between them has left its mark on them both—

"Why are you staring at Papa and Arthur?" Matthew whispers. His brother shifts in his seat waiting impatiently for lunch knowing full well that even if his name is on the agenda, and he's wearing a nametag no one will remember him or his presentation after a few seconds.

Alfred glances at him, before leaning his face on his arms.

Up at the podium England was making another public announcement about the Gulf Spill, adding in insults about it was all America's fault. (Alfred ignored him, and as well as all the side comments and turned to his brother.)

"They're deluding themselves." Alfred says, looking off into the distance. On his side Lithuania blinks casting a strange look over at the two.

Apparently the America brothers weren't the only ones not paying attention as a few others glanced his way—the most notable of which being Taiwan,Estonia and Russia.

Canada blinked. "About what? The Gulf Spill?"

America shook his head. "Everything." He signed and looked away, knowing full well he shouldn't have bothered.

His brother wouldn't understand…at least not yet.

xxxviixxx**A/N**: Take this section however you want. If you think there are hints—who am I to disagree…or vise versa. xxxviixxx

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><p><strong>No Love II<strong>

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><p>"Well, well Amérique, it seems another decade has passed, and yet you've not succumb to the sweet song of desire…?" France said leaning provocatively near America.<p>

Alfred sighed. "No. Why do you ask?" He asked.

He was looking over his papers, glancing straight into the other's eyes.

He knew that look, and inwardly winching as yet again Francis tried to pry information out of him. And not just any information—information about his freaking' sex life.

What the hell?

He knew Francis was a pervert, but did he have to keep bugging him about this?

Francis leaned in closer. "Surely little Alfred is not afraid to tell me, non?"

"You're right, I'm not afraid—I'm warily. I know you. I may be young but I'm not stupid Francis, whatever you and the rest of the nations may think. Any way's if that all I'm leaving." He grabbed his suitcase and stumped out scaring the living daylight out of the few nations still in the room (Alfred looked pissed), and making Canada glance nervously in their direction.

He slammed the door behind him and locked himself into his room at the hotel before he finally relaxed.

'Francis is an idiot.' He thought to himself lying down on his bed.

He hated diplomatic affairs—because in hindsight there was nothing diplomatic about them, they were ONLY affairs.

Plain and simple.

He signed to himself.

It was going to be another long week.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Another one-shot. America is not a player, and has never had sex, but the rest of it was him not wanting to tell the others is because he refuses to be another 'conquest'. More on this later.

Anyhow—

Please** READ** and **REVIEW!**

I want to know what you think! And lastly, thanks for all the wonderful reviews—I love them!


	7. Pretending I

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**Summary**: Tests of Time, Friendship, and Pain

**Warning**: Dark themes, my grammar, cursing and some confusion on the part of the other nations. You have been warned.

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><p><strong>Pretending I<strong>

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><p>Insults are common sentences he often hears, and yet complements are so easy given too—at least when no one knows who he is.<p>

These days whenever he travels for non-diplomatic meetings he is surprised at how different the world views him when he pockets Texas and for those rare times wonders the world pretending to be a human. He'll walk the streets of Italy and Spain smiling happily as people wave and chat.

Though that isn't to say he doesn't have any sort of scare on these times.

Once when he was lost in North Italy, he ran into Francis—literally.

xxxviixxx

"Well, well aren't you attractive mon deau." An arm snaked around his shoulders.

He jumped back quickly going pale, apologizing before turning to try and get away from Francis. He had only made it a few steps before he was tugged back by his jacket hood (for once his bomber jacket was lying back at his hotel and was wearing a nice dark brown jean jacket instead). His eyes going wide as he was pulled into Francis' arms.

Francis purred as his hands wondered causing a deep red blush to appear on Alfred's face.

'Damn it,' He thought as he tried restlessly to push Francis away.

He succeed after a second, and ran off, making sure he wasn't followed.

Suffice to say, the rest of his stay was trying to dodge stalker Francis—who apparently had a thing for blondes…

xxxviixxx

He shivered just thinking about it.

Next to him Matthew blinked confused.

Sometimes, his brother made no sense.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Something short and sweet that probably should have been posted a couple days ago, but was forgotten while I was finished up the next chapter of Realizations. Hopefully a couple of days hasn't killed the reader's taste for this fanfiction…

Anyhow's…

Please **Read and Review**!

I want to know what the readers think.


	8. Hoildays I

**Disclaimer** in first chapter.

**Summary**: Holiday's without family, are painful reminders of what it is to be both a person and a nation-Alfred knows this well.

**Warning:** Usage of country and human names, cursing as well as American-ness. You have been warned.

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><p><strong>Holidays I<strong>

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><p>Holidays had always held a special place in his heart ever since he was little.<p>

Bright lights and holiday carols mixed with fresh snow for a season of kindness and joy. Those were the days of happiness where people came together to celebrate living. Pure happiness at family closeness—times when he still had company during Christmas and Thanksgiving.

Alfred signed to himself as he glanced to the calendar near his bed.

A bittersweet emotion caught in his throat as he counted the days until Christmas.

This year—much like the previous years would be the same.

He would be alone.

'Alfred...' He blinked looking up.

"Tony? What are you doing here? I thought you'd still be on a mission." He jumped to his feet, raising to meet his long time friend.

Tony crossed his arms, a light blue blush across his…face.

'Stupid bastard, they canceled it…Make me something to eat.'

Alfred chuckled. "Ok…whatcha want?"

Tony paused in the door. "How the fuck should I know." He said leaving Alfred's room.

Alfred smiled.

Maybe this year he wouldn't be alone.

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><p><strong><em>Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays! Hopefully no one else if left alone on this day (unless you want to be of course!)<em>**

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>; A short little one-shot…Kind of strange, considering how weirdly protective England seems in regard to Alfred, but from what I've seen from the anime Alfred spent his holiday's alone. (Stupid France and the others for leaving Alfred by himself… geez.) Holidays are meant for spending time with people you care about—not leaving your loved ones alone! Honesty…

Anyhow…

Please** Read** and **Review**.

I love to know what the readers think, or if you have any questions.


	9. No Love III

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Summary**: Things you don't know about America, and probably should…

**Warning**: Theories about Alfred's relationships, instances of drunk nations, France, and Alfred feeling like a lab rat.

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><p><strong>No Love III<strong>

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><p>Often the topic of mass debate Alfred F. Jones personification of the United States of America has been engaged three times.<p>

How, or when is unknown.

But the exact number is always accounted for whenever Alfred's wrist chain appears showing the shine of three engagement rings every time he reaches forward or moves his left arm suddenly.

The theories on who are vast, as Francis will often say anyone to everyone depending on his mood and who happens to be in the room, while others will make more educated guesses such as other nations who have close ties to either Alfred, the person, or America the country... England, Japan and Lithuania being the most likely with a surprising amount of people supporting even stranger combinations, such as Russia, Ludwig, Romano, and oddly enough Sweden.

Still Alfred keeps quiet no matter what the other nations do, simply smiling sadly and changing the subject (usually after he denies that he is not in any romantic relationship will any of the other nations).

xxxviixxxx

"I still think you are lying, mon cher." Francis said leaning on his hand.

He was only a few feet away from Alfred, and yet still he didn't feel safe. America moved back in his chair trying and failing looking for a way out, as once again Hungary, Japan, and the Bad Touch Trio had cornered him over the three engagement rings.

Like he was going to tell them…

Not likely.

"I'm not. These aren't from another nation."

Francis smirked and glanced towards England. "Really? Because we think," he motioned to the others. "That you are lying, non?"

Alfred signed.

"I'm not. For the fiftieth time."

He blinked as something occurred to him.

"Wait, why do you think I'm lying?"

The smirk on Francis' mouth reappeared in force. "Several…sources have come forward to disprove your claims."

Alfred frowned, and he got up. "Who?"

"C'est un secret."

"Tell me, _now_."

Francis gulped, glancing to his friends looking for support and possibly a way out. Because as fun as this whole situation started, there was no fun in getting his head knocked off for keeping a secret that _really_ pissed off the only superpower in the world.

"Russia. England." France said hesitantly, unable to actually put his thoughts into sentences.

The glared intensified. "What. Did. They .Say?" He hand was inched toward his pocket were his gun was kept.

How dare they, how fucking dare they make a game out of _this_?

"They said that they slept with you."

Alfred's glared at Francis, before he turned back, slumping in his chair.

"We didn't have sex of any kind. England and me shared a bunk during WWI so we slept in the same general area, but we did not have sex, or in any way molest each other... Secondly, Russia, if you recalled got wasted, because you put that strange alcohol junk in his vodka, causing him to pass out –conveniently before we had a shouting match causing him to pass out on top of me."

He gritted his teeth. "End of fucking story."

He grabbed his paperwork and stomp out completely pissed.

He hated World Conferences.

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><p><strong>Author Notes<strong>: Just a little fun. See, if you can guess who the three people are who America fell in love with. I'll give you a small hint they're well known in lastly on a side note: I'm _**opening up this fan fic for requests**_ for these one-shots (or if there are enough votes for more). They can be theme, from a time in history or anything else you want—just send them in a review and we're good to go, however they may take a while.

Any how's, please **read** and **review**.


	10. Era Clip I

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**Warnings:** cursing, smart! America, my grammar, usage of human and country names (there's list on my profile if you don't know them) and confusion on the parts of other nations—you have been warned.

**Summary: **Inspired by the movie "Thirteen Days", and a reviewer's request from MochiUS.

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><p><strong>Era Clip I: Cold War <strong>

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><p>Russia must have thought he was stupid.<p>

Alfred thought glancing at the enlarged photo's displaying the nuclear war heads. He was sitting in the President's Office waiting for the rest of the Executive Committee to gather, while across the room President Kennedy was staring out the window, trying and failing not to look stressed.

Alfred didn't blame him.

Off to the side, on one of the hidden doors, a knock came.

Alfred sighed in thanks. "Come in!" He yelled, placing the set of pictures neatly back on the President's desk.

The door opened.

A man leaned in sending a nod toward Alfred, before looking at Kennedy.[1]

"I've gathered the others, Mr. President. They're waiting for you in the Briefing Room."

The President nodded, and rose from his seat grabbing his coat. "Alfred, you are going to attend as well, if not the Committee might well forget what this meeting is about."

Alfred smiled tightly. "I planned on going anyway."

Kennedy nodded. "Good…let's go."

**XXxxxxXX**

"According to our analysts the weapons being placed on Cuba are small to medium range nuclear war head, and could potentially take out any of the vital functions necessary to maintain the United States Government," the spokesman's pointer moved over a map of the US, showing exactly how serious the situation was when almost eighty percent of the east coast was highlighted.

Alfred hissed.

Damn them.

On his left side the commanders of the United States military conjugated whispering to themselves in hushed tones while on the right side the Secretary of State along with the political cabinet members were going over the options on the table.

So far, besides the initial idea of 'quarantine' nothing concrete had been decided.

Now, everything rested almost completely on the shoulders of President Kennedy.

"What do think, America?" Kennedy asked quietly, purposely using Alfred's title—something he almost never did.

Alfred turned ever so slightly in his seat. "Under normal circumstances I would rather avoid conflict with other countries…especially Soviet Russia, and his weapons—but if my people have no choice but to attack—I will, without hesitation."

The President nodded, and prompted another question—a more emotional one. "Even if you're fighting against your friends?"

_'Even against Lithuania?'_ He seemed to ask.

Alfred frowned but nodded. "Yes, because a nation must be loyal to his people, even if it's against family…"

A look passed through his eyes, and Kennedy thanked him glancing forward as the military reached a conclusion of all possible options.

"In the event the Soviet's decide to ignore the quarantine, we will have no choice but to attack. We cannot allow them to have more nuclear warhead then the ones currently on Cuba." The military spokesmen said.

Kennedy nodded. "I agree…continue quarantine but do not go to Death Con two—the last thing any of us needs is for the Soviet's to have any knowledge that we know what they're planning." He made a note on his papers.

"I also want up-to date information about the current nuclear warheads on Cuba." Alfred added, nearly causing the military men to jump.

Mostly of them had forgotten his presence in the Briefing Room, even though they all knew who he truly was.

"O-of course, General Jones." One of them said moving off to make some phone calls.

"Meeting Adjourned." Kennedy said moving off to his office, while Alfred listed off some more orders. They're really wasn't any need for his presence now that Alfred had taken control, Kennedy needed some time to think.

_What was he going to do?_

"How fast can our cameras take pictographs, and how long does it take to develop them?" He asked grabbing some clean pages from the table.

"About every fourteen hours, with an addition forty minutes for development."

Alfred notes this down. "Good, then I expect copies of everything to be sent to Kennedy's office. If anything changes—I can be reached through the President's Private phone in the Oval Office…dismissed."

The men saluted, and started gathering their things.

It was one thing to disagree with your President but no one ever disagreed with Alfred F. Jones during times of war. [2]

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><p><strong>Chapter Notes:<strong>

[1] Kennedy was President during the Cold War.

[2] A lot of the other junk was mostly fictional, or taken from the movie, "Thirteen Days".

**Head Canon:**

Compared to Arthur and Matthew, Toris (Lithuania) has been a more steady friend to him. It was only during Lithuania forced annexation by the USSR did Toris stop talking to Alfred, but immediately started to communicate again after he was free-so Alfred sees him like a brother and best friend rolled into one.

Yes, Alfred was award a four-star general's rank as he fought in multiple wars, and top military brass is always notified of his true identity to insure that no matter what happens there is always someone in charge in a worse case situation.

**In Regards to Requests **(Please Read): I'm so glad I got so many reviews…but I'm a little confused on where the readers want me to go with some of these. For those who have sent in requests and those who are going to, if you are going to request something from a different series — do you want me to show what Alfred thinks about it-or a what-if situation where the requested series has to deal with Alfred? Make sure to specify!

I'm really kind of upset I didn't get to finish this, but today was particularly difficult. I only got twenty minutes on the computer-so I apologize if its terrible. I will continue this again (hopefully with my next post). I'm sorry, MochiUs! I'm a terrible, horrible person for taking so long!

Any how's please** Read **and** Review, and don't forget to your requests, if you have some!**


	11. Problem I and Era Clip II

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**Warnings**: cursing, smart! America, my grammar, usage of human and country names (there's list on my profile if you don't know them) and confusion on the parts of other nations—you have been warned.

**Summary:**Family can hurt, and a return mochi trip.

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><p><strong>Problem II<strong>

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><p>Canada caught him again the next day. Trailing behind him, and following him into the meeting room trying to get his attention.<p>

A ploy which was doomed to fail from the start.

A useless tool.

Alfred signed; his brother was a kind-hearted fool when it came to others, other like _them_. But when he had problems, all he'd get was some half-hearted words, and an order to leave him alone—talk about double standards. Canada always played favorites.

It was the trait he hated the most from his brother, something he usually tried to ignore, and yet now it was impossible to.

He gripped his papers and walked faster eventually turning into a run as he tried to lose him.

He didn't want to see his face.

"Alfred! Stop!" Canada yelled trying to run after him, but his pace was much slower, out of practice compared to Alfred's. "Alfred!"

Alfred ran faster, using the cover of the next corner to hide in a nearby room for his brother to run by. He wasn't even out of breath and yet as his brother ran by his hiding place he could see him pant, clearly out of shape.

Watching the betrayal past…

"Stupid Mattie," He whispered watching him go, before dumping the stack of papers into the nearest trash car. He didn't even know why he was still holding on to them, they were just some complains he was send by the others…

The others… anger simmered just beneath the surface.

… and lighting a fire within.

He may run from his brother, but he was not going to ran from _them_.

**XXxxxxXX**

Alfred found them minutes later, in one of the side rooms near the second floor talking to each other. Apparently they were so goddamn concentrated on whatever they might weasel out of him that they had yet to notice his presence. They were looking over papers talking quietly in hushed voices about some deal, or land.

Alfred's eyes narrowed.

Who's really the stupid one now?

He smiled coldly, far passed pissed off.

He slipped the doors closed and moved up to the table slamming his fist down.

Off to his sides several of the nations jumped, and instantly the room quieted as one by one the nations present turned to him, surprise and shock in their eyes (except for Russia, whose smile turned cold). Alfred's other hand was in his jacket pocket, his posture a cross between dangerous and angry as he removed his hand from the wood table.

"So sending Canada after me wasn't the only shit, you pulled…?" He asked quietly still a little shocked that the people in front of him were so cruel or manipulative enough to use his own brother against him.

China frowned stepping forward to (likely) impart some wisdom about older people and respect.

Alfred ignored the condescending look he was being sent. He'd been the butt of too many jokes and insults for any of this to really get to him. He combed a hand through his hair, unaware that the light's glares made him look even more dangerous than before, crossing over his glasses at an angle.

China ignored this though and continued. "When elders speak, the children should listen, aru…or have you forgotten the debt?"

The world's ugliness shows, bright like blood on white.

Alfred laughed, cold and cruel unable to believe his prediction were right. He knew China was going to pull the debt card—he fucking knew it.

Well, Alfred had some tricks of his own.

"Obviously I know about the debt, but threatening me with that is passed pathetic—"

The room exploded in outrage.

"How rude!"

"You are crossing a line Estados Unidos."

Alfred glared at them. "Shut the fuck up." He hissed, spitting fire.

Apparently the European Union forgot who they were messing with.

They shut up.

"My debt is none of your damn business, and nothing, not even you China can do shit about it…or did you forget China who your biggest trading partner is." [1]

China frowned. "Cūlǔ de háizi." He said arms crossing.

"Right back at you, jerk." Alfred smirked letting his hands fall to his sides, instead of back to his pockets. He needed to be on guard just in case.

China glared, but stayed silence.

Check and mate.

'You lose.' Alfred thought,butstill, something was off.

China wasn't a part of the European Union, so their problems had nothing to do with him—so then why was the old nation sticking his neck out for them…? They had nothing valuable enough that China would want—unless…

A deadly glint entered his eyes."Tell me China, what did the EU manage to bribe you with? Money? Oh wait. They don't have that. Land? I really am curious—care to share?" He asked.

China didn't answer, simply glaring at Alfred. "I have nothing to admit, aru." He replied storming off.

Alfred sighed, feeling twice his age.

He hated dealing with the older nations. They always came with problems.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviewer's Request: <strong>Gemstarre

**Mochi I**

* * *

><p>As a general rule, America was a strange nation. Befriending aliens and be able to talk to whales were talents no other countries boasted. Indeed, of all the nations, America was probably the strangest one.<p>

Still, nothing compared to the small 'mochi' thing that America brought into the G8 one day in November.

"Tony made him for me!" America said smiling brightly. [2]

The others blinked as one, completely and utterly out of their depth (a feeling that was unfortunately becoming common the more the other personifications started to get to know America).

"And what is...it?" England asked snapping out of his shock first.

After all, if he could take Tony the fucking rude alien—anything else was normal…right?

He couldn't be more wrong.

The white round thing glared. Small square-like markings, that looked like the indent of glasses barely containing cold blue eyes glared as England stepped closer.

"I'm not it! I'm mochi-America!" The thing said hotly snuggling closer to his owner much like a cat would.

More blinking.

Several of the European nations were gaping like fish apparently unable to process the last ten minutes of weirdness. Japan composed himself, quickly taking out his camera from within the folds of his yukata and snapping some pictures of the creature.

Apparently, none of them expected mochi-America to talk, let alone think.

Poor, poor sad fools…

America (and Americans in general) always stands out from the norm—it's particularly a constitutional law.

Canada sighed and rubbed his forehead. [3]

It was going to be a long meeting.

* * *

><p><strong>Native I<strong>

* * *

><p>"Ma!" A small blond haired child said. He was holding up his hands, in a universal gesture to be carried, and Tsenacommah obeyed picking him up.<p>

Long black hair, and blazing grey eyes shining with happiness shined back at him. She was in every sense of the word, the lands of America, just as Comeka was.[6]

Native America, a land of endless skies and lands…

"Shh. Child" She said a finger on little Comeka's lips. "Sleep."

He yawned nodding. "Safe dreams, Ma." He whispered, eyes closing shut. She ran her hand through his hair, waiting until his breathe evened out, before she kneed down laying her child on a soft bed of animal furs. She brought the animal skin over his form, dusting a few leaves off.

"Please spirits, watch over him." She prayed, leaving one kiss on his forehead.

Standing tears filled her eyes. "Forgive me, Comeka. It time we part." She whispered.

She spared him one last glance before walked into the darkness.

**XXxxxxXX**

Hours later, when morning came, Comeka was alone, surrounded only be the sounds of the forest as he cried for his mother.

He didn't have to be told, he could feel it.

His mother was dead; he was the new guardian…

* * *

><p><strong>Transition:<strong>

Comeka**:** Native American languages are hard to find so for now I made up this name. Means "Shining Bright Hope". If anyone has any good ideas feel free to pm me, I'm always open to ideas.

Estados Unidos: United States in Spanish. Spain is being really formal considering they're suppose to be allies.

Cūlǔ de háizi: rude child…I think but my Chinese is really rough. Feel free to correct it. I would appreciate it.

**Chapter Notes:**

[I]The United States is the largest trading country for China buying 57% of their goods, meaning if China pushes the issue, all trade could be halted or decreased causing big trouble for them and us. Though if really pushed I figure we could somehow work that problem out.

[2] I think that the only way for the mochi-nations to be possible is if Tony was involved. Well that and I figure Tony's got to have something scientific to do on earth to pass time when he's not playing video games with Alfred.

[3] In any case, if anyone's wondering where Kumajirou was he stole Canada's maple syrup before the meeting and is currently eating it in the corner of the room while everyone's freaking out.

**Author's Notes:** There will be more mochi-America. It's too enjoyable not add on! I hope my grammar isn't too terrible. If it is, let me know. I'll figure out something.

As always, feel free to **comment **and tell **me what you think**!


	12. Problem II and Mochi I

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**Warnings**: cursing, smart! America, my grammar, usage of human and country names (there's list on my profile if you don't know them) and confusion on the parts of other nations—you have been warned.

**Summary:**Family can hurt, and a return mochi trip.

* * *

><p><strong>Problem II<strong>

* * *

><p>Canada caught him again the next day. Trailing behind him, and following him into the meeting room trying to get his attention.<p>

A ploy which was doomed to fail from the start.

A useless tool.

Alfred signed; his brother was a kind-hearted fool when it came to others, other like _them_. But when he had problems, all he'd get was some half-hearted words, and an order to leave him alone—talk about double standards. Canada always played favorites.

It was the trait he hated the most from his brother, something he usually tried to ignore, and yet now it was impossible to.

He gripped his papers and walked faster eventually turning into a run as he tried to lose him.

He didn't want to see his face.

"Alfred! Stop!" Canada yelled trying to run after him, but his pace was much slower, out of practice compared to Alfred's. "Alfred!"

Alfred ran faster, using the cover of the next corner to hide in a nearby room for his brother to run by. He wasn't even out of breath and yet as his brother ran by his hiding place he could see him pant, clearly out of shape.

Watching the betrayal past…

"Stupid Mattie," He whispered watching him go, before dumping the stack of papers into the nearest trash car. He didn't even know why he was still holding on to them, they were just some complains he was send by the others…

The others… anger simmered just beneath the surface.

… and lighting a fire within.

He may run from his brother, but he was not going to ran from _them_.

**XXxxxxXX**

Alfred found them minutes later, in one of the side rooms near the second floor talking to each other. Apparently they were so goddamn concentrated on whatever they might weasel out of him that they had yet to notice his presence. They were looking over papers talking quietly in hushed voices about some deal, or land.

Alfred's eyes narrowed.

Who's really the stupid one now?

He smiled coldly, far passed pissed off.

He slipped the doors closed and moved up to the table slamming his fist down.

Off to his sides several of the nations jumped, and instantly the room quieted as one by one the nations present turned to him, surprise and shock in their eyes (except for Russia, whose smile turned cold). Alfred's other hand was in his jacket pocket, his posture a cross between dangerous and angry as he removed his hand from the wood table.

"So sending Canada after me wasn't the only shit, you pulled…?" He asked quietly still a little shocked that the people in front of him were so cruel or manipulative enough to use his own brother against him.

China frowned stepping forward to (likely) impart some wisdom about older people and respect.

Alfred ignored the condescending look he was being sent. He'd been the butt of too many jokes and insults for any of this to really get to him. He combed a hand through his hair, unaware that the light's glares made him look even more dangerous than before, crossing over his glasses at an angle.

China ignored this though and continued. "When elders speak, the children should listen, aru…or have you forgotten the debt?"

The world's ugliness shows, bright like blood on white.

Alfred laughed, cold and cruel unable to believe his prediction were right. He knew China was going to pull the debt card—he fucking knew it.

Well, Alfred had some tricks of his own.

"Obviously I know about the debt, but threatening me with that is passed pathetic—"

The room exploded in outrage.

"How rude!"

"You are crossing a line Estados Unidos."

Alfred glared at them. "Shut the fuck up." He hissed, spitting fire.

Apparently the European Union forgot who they were messing with.

They shut up.

"My debt is none of your damn business, and nothing, not even you China can do shit about it…or did you forget China who your biggest trading partner is." [1]

China frowned. "Cūlǔ de háizi." He said arms crossing.

"Right back at you, jerk." Alfred smirked letting his hands fall to his sides, instead of back to his pockets. He needed to be on guard just in case.

China glared, but stayed silence.

Check and mate.

'You lose.' Alfred thought,butstill, something was off.

China wasn't a part of the European Union, so their problems had nothing to do with him—so then why was the old nation sticking his neck out for them…? They had nothing valuable enough that China would want—unless…

A deadly glint entered his eyes."Tell me China, what did the EU manage to bribe you with? Money? Oh wait. They don't have that. Land? I really am curious—care to share?" He asked.

China didn't answer, simply glaring at Alfred. "I have nothing to admit, aru." He replied storming off.

Alfred sighed, feeling twice his age.

He hated dealing with the older nations. They always came with problems.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviewer's Request: <strong>Gemstarre

**Mochi I**

* * *

><p>As a general rule, America was a strange nation. Befriending aliens and be able to talk to whales were talents no other countries boasted. Indeed, of all the nations, America was probably the strangest one.<p>

Still, nothing compared to the small 'mochi' thing that America brought into the G8 one day in November.

"Tony made him for me!" America said smiling brightly. [2]

The others blinked as one, completely and utterly out of their depth (a feeling that was unfortunately becoming common the more the other personifications started to get to know America).

"And what is...it?" England asked snapping out of his shock first.

After all, if he could take Tony the fucking rude alien—anything else was normal…right?

He couldn't be more wrong.

The white round thing glared. Small square-like markings, that looked like the indent of glasses barely containing cold blue eyes glared as England stepped closer.

"I'm not it! I'm mochi-America!" The thing said hotly snuggling closer to his owner much like a cat would.

More blinking.

Several of the European nations were gaping like fish apparently unable to process the last ten minutes of weirdness. Japan composed himself, quickly taking out his camera from within the folds of his yukata and snapping some pictures of the creature.

Apparently, none of them expected mochi-America to talk, let alone think.

Poor, poor sad fools…

America (and Americans in general) always stands out from the norm—it's particularly a constitutional law.

Canada sighed and rubbed his forehead. [3]

It was going to be a long meeting.

* * *

><p><strong>Native I<strong>

* * *

><p>"Ma!" A small blond haired child said. He was holding up his hands, in a universal gesture to be carried, and Tsenacommah obeyed picking him up.<p>

Long black hair, and blazing grey eyes shining with happiness shined back at him. She was in every sense of the word, the lands of America, just as Comeka was.[6]

Native America, a land of endless skies and lands…

"Shh. Child" She said a finger on little Comeka's lips. "Sleep."

He yawned nodding. "Safe dreams, Ma." He whispered, eyes closing shut. She ran her hand through his hair, waiting until his breathe evened out, before she kneed down laying her child on a soft bed of animal furs. She brought the animal skin over his form, dusting a few leaves off.

"Please spirits, watch over him." She prayed, leaving one kiss on his forehead.

Standing tears filled her eyes. "Forgive me, Comeka. It time we part." She whispered.

She spared him one last glance before walked into the darkness.

**XXxxxxXX**

Hours later, when morning came, Comeka was alone, surrounded only be the sounds of the forest as he cried for his mother.

He didn't have to be told, he could feel it.

His mother was dead; he was the new guardian…

* * *

><p><strong>Transition:<strong>

Comeka**: **Caddo(?) means "Shining Bright Hope". Native American languages are hard to find so for now I made up this name. . If anyone has any good ideas feel free to pm me, I'm always open to ideas.

Estados Unidos:Spanish: United States in Spanish. Spain is being really formal considering they're suppose to be allies.

Cūlǔ de háizi: rude child…I think but my Chinese is really rough. Feel free to correct it. I would appreciate it.

**Chapter Notes:**

[I]The United States is the largest trading country for China buying 57% of their goods, meaning if China pushes the issue, all trade could be halted or decreased causing big trouble for them and us. Though if really pushed I figure we could somehow work that problem out.

[2] I think that the only way for the mochi-nations to be possible is if Tony was involved. Well that and I figure Tony's got to have something scientific to do on earth to pass time when he's not playing video games with Alfred.

[3] In any case, if anyone's wondering where Kumajirou was he stole Canada's maple syrup before the meeting and is currently eating it in the corner of the room while everyone's freaking out.

**Author's Notes:** There will be more mochi-America. It's too enjoyable not add on! I hope my grammar isn't too terrible. If it is, let me know. I'll figure out something.

As always, feel free to **comment **and tell **me what you think**!


	13. Hope I, Era Clip III and Lietuva I

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**Warning**: Terrible grammar and irregular updates (school is hard!)

**Summary: **Sometimes hope, sometimes the past, and then there's friends.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope I<strong>

* * *

><p>Nature had always been a complicated subject whenever it was brought up either by the states or Alfred himself.<p>

It was an endless cycle that never seemed to end. Years of just trying to pass laws allowing him to preserve places like Yellow Stone had taken _decades_ of fighting and compromises before anything was allowed.

It just got to the point where he seriously thought he'd be without anything green in a couple of years if this kept up—until the 112th Congress happened.

He had been minding his own business trying to destroy some aliens on his PlayStation Vita when a knock came at his office door. Shoving it onto his lap he grabbed the nearest pile of paperwork he was suppose to be doing, before he called out.

"Come in!" He yelled.

Two people entered, shifted looks of glare to each other, to soft smiles when their eyes landed on Alfred.

"We, the majority heads of the political parties in charge of the Senate and the House of Representatives have decided to enact a series of environment friendly laws."

Alfred eyes went wide.

…That was the beginning.

* * *

><p><strong>Era Clip III: Civil War<strong>

* * *

><p>"What do mean you won't choose a side?" His people yelled, feeling distant, and betrayed.<p>

He could feel them on the edge of his consciousness every single moment of every single day. His senators question him, and President did too, but no matter what anyone said his answer remained the same.

"I won't choose a side…. Because Americans are fighting—I'm fighting for change and I have to support that—"

"But the Union—!"

"Is not guilt free, or did you forget all those immigrants living in the slums? I didn't, nor can I stand back and watch the slavery of the South continue either. I'm America, the country of freedom, and I will work to make that happen." Alfred hissed slamming his hands on the table.

The senators from the North bristled, anger on the tips of their lips, and thoughts of hated and discrimination fueling their thoughts.

Even though they said it was because of slavery, Alfred knew better. This was about pride, and egos, this was a war created by the fear, and jealously of man. The North wanted to prove itself superior to the South and the South wanted to be greedy.

It was a cycle of sins.

Alfred sighed, head pounding.

Already he was seeing spots…

The world spun, and faded into darkness.

It was the beginning of the end.

It was the battle of Gettysburg.

* * *

><p><strong>Lietuva I<strong>

* * *

><p>It wasn't often that Alfred got around to talking to Toris.<p>

Economic troubles aside, they were both busy nations with plenty do and little time for relaxation, but whatever the case, they were still friends.

**XXxxxxXX**

It was mid-morning and although it was past six ten, Alfred was beginning to worry. Usually when he woke up Lithuania had coffee and breakfast ready and waiting for him, but today that wasn't the case. He'd checked the kitchen and all the adjoining rooms before he made the first steps towards Toris' room.

Even though he had said earlier that he'd give Toris his personal space, give him a chance to get used to him after Russia, he was really beginning to worry.

Moving quickly in front of the pale blue door in the west wing of the house, Alfred raised his arm knocking.

"Hey Toris, you here?" Alfred asked turning the corner.

Nothing.

He knocked again. "Are you awake—?"

"Yes, I'm here. I'll be right out." Toris said after a minute, voice cracking.

Alfred eyes narrowed. "Stay where you are. I'm coming in."

"W-wait!" Toris replied.

Alfred pushed the door open, eyes going wide as he took in the sight.

Deadly pale and painfully thin Toris leaned on the bed. He looked drained and weak—Alfred swallowed a lump forming in his throat as his mind went blank.

Toris was sick.

He was in pain.

How the hell did he not notice?

Alfred moved before his mind could register he was walking. He threw aside the covers on Toris' bed, and gathered up his friend, placing him neatly on the bed tucking him.

"M-Mr. America, why?" Toris asked weakly. "What's going on?"

"You're going to relax, and not do any work until you're a normal weight." Alfred said—no demanded, feeling a mixture of emotions boiling just beneath the surface.

How could he been so stupid?

"But—I need to work so I can—"

Alfred sighed. "No, you don't. I'm giving you a paid vacation."

"But—!"

"No arguments." Alfred cut in, crossing his arms, unknowing looking pissed as hell. A wave of regrets bit at him. He wasn't supposed to miss things like things—he wasn't supposed to let his friends suffer!

He moved a chair from the wall, falling into it. Using the palms of his hands he rubbed his head before crossing them in front of him as he leaned forward. It was almost as if he was praying…

Lithuania stared at him completely confused, and a little shaken up.

Alfred's eyes soften, and combed an arm through his hair. "Toris?"

"Yes, M-Mr. America?"

"I'm sorry."

The world stills, and Toris is caught completely and utterly off guard. He doesn't know to say, so he lets Alfred go, unable to speak.

"I should be paying attention. Here you are struggling and what the hell am I doing? I'm out doing whatever! I should be paying attention, but I'm not…And because of that, you're…you're…" He trails off feeling lower than dirt.

But to Lithuania it's like watching the raise of a new day. Bright and full of hope.

America had always been like that to him. Too kind, and too young, but it's not a bad thing, not now.

"Thank you."

Alfred's head snapped up.

"For what?"

"For Caring."

Alfred smiled.

It was the beginning of a long and treasured friendship.

* * *

><p><strong>Translation:<strong>

Lietuva is Lithuania in Lithuanian...and if anyone can understand that, and say that ten times fast-I will be amazed.

**Chapter Notes:**

Section Thirteen was made because of the huge increase of green product finally taking over America. Go Alfred!

Anyhow, compared to the Civil War I've seen written and my head canon, there would only be a new nation if the United States had well and truly broke up, and the people of the South identified themselves as something else other than U.S. Americans, but they didn't—they wanted the Confederate United States of America, so no random appearing OC from me. Americans are Americans. Period.( Well, that and I typically hate Oc's with a burning passion.)

Oh, and the small bit about Lithuania and America is really true. We celebrated our eighty-five years of friendship with them in 2009 [we conveniently ignore when the USSR annex them]. Lithuania is one of the few nations the USA has never gone to war against. Best buds, all the way.

**Author's Notes**_**:**_ I was so pissed off at myself for taking so long with this; I forced myself to sing 'Hamburger Street' the character song for America [shivers] as punishment. I really don't like that song. I mean, seriously out of all the cool Japanese songs, and we get hamburgers? I want to cry.

Bye, and Remember to—

**Read** and **Review**!


	14. Personal Space I & II, Era Clip IV & V

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**Warning:** Terrible grammar and irregular updates (school is hard!)

**Summary: **When personal space is important and most of the other nations completely miss this...and when Prohibition fails (because it was obviously was never going to work).

* * *

><p><strong>Personal Space I<strong>

* * *

><p>Apparently personal space for Europeans was non-existent.<p>

Alfred noted as he watched Antonio and Gilbert stand way too close to his brother. Poor Mattie wasn't used to the strange ways of the old world (Asia included), and tended to stutter when attention was focused exclusively on him, and the way Prussia was hovered an inch from his face was making him uncomfortable and nervous at all once.

Even after century or two, the whole concept of personal space was ignored.

Arthur tended to curse whenever he brought it up and Francis…well, he was Francis.

"Why ever should this piece of perfection be held back by such barbaric rules? I'm just _beau_, _non_?"

Alfred rubbed his forehead.

It was something of a quandary.

Just why did the old world people have to stand so damn close?[1]

He didn't know and frankly, if Russia stood any closer, he was going to end up killing him. [2]

Stupid foreigners.

* * *

><p><strong>Personal Space II<strong>

* * *

><p>Alfred growled.<p>

"Get the fuck away from me." He hissed, stepping back from Russia and Cuba.

Both nations were taken back at the demand, and visibly a little shocked. Neither had expected such fierce response from the American, and complied before they could reply.

Russia was the first to come out of his shock. "Why do you get angry, Альфред?" [3]

Alfred glared. "I didn't give you permission to call you my name—"

"да, you did, during the Civil War—" Russia interrupted.[4]

"But I didn't after the Cold War. You know mutual assured destruction and nuclear warheads? Or are you suddenly too old to remember that?" Alfred glowered, feeling insulted.

Even though his country is known for being informal, it was one thing for friends to call him by his first name, but it was quite another for the others—particularly Russia and China to called him by his first name. They were not his friends, only allies, dangerous people who weren't trustworthy.

Russia frowned. "You are being unfair—"

"And you're being jerk. My government may be forgiving, but as individuals we are not friends." He said walking away.

This discussion was over.

* * *

><p><strong>Era Clip IV: Prohibition<strong>

* * *

><p>"This has to be the stupidest idea ever." Alfred said reading over the new law. He couldn't believe the amount of work his children were putting into something so...so…He groaned unable to think of any word to describe the situation.<p>

Already he could tell how this was going to turn out.

First, maybe for a few days—no scratch that a few hours his people might follow that law, but sooner or later someone is going to still find beer, and consume it—regardless of some law.

Hell, killing someone is against the law, and people still do it.

What was Congress playing at?

Seriously, this is so—

"So what do you think?" A familiar asked making him jump.

He glanced up, somewhat surprised to see his president standing in front of him.

Woodrow Wilson was a tough man, proud and idealistic. He had a vision for America as the heaven of freedom free from injustice and hatred, and yet Alfred had some doubts about this dream. There was no freedom to be had if there was still segregation, those Jim Crow laws existed, but Alfred applauded his hope.

It was nice to dream, even if America could never truly be that way—not while governed by humans…

'I think it's…" Alfred started searching for a word. "I think it's a very interesting way to deal with everything." He said finally.

Wilson smiled. "Thank you Alfred. I'm glad I had your support on this." He said patting his nation on the back, and walking off.

Alfred waved, smiling brightly. He still couldn't grasp how incredibly lame he was for not being able to tell his boss the truth.

He never supported the eighteen amendment, and yet standing there watching his boss turn the corner, he couldn't help but say one thing.

"My children are crazy. One hundred percent insane." He said shaking his head. He smiled faintly, ignoring the strange looks the maid sent him.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets he walked off.

* * *

><p>"<em>And I'm proud to be an American,<em>_  
><em>_where at least I know I'm free.__  
><em>_And I won't forget the men who died,__  
><em>_who gave that right to me."[5]_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Notes:<strong>

[1] It's a custom in Europe to stand at best three feet from conversational partners and worst two feet, so we (Americans) generally are not very comfortable with people being closer than four feet (1.2 m) than that unless we're friends or family. No one's really sure why we like more space, but my personal theory is since we have more room than people in Europe, and Asia, we can have more personal space. Who knows?

[2] Ivan keeps abusing the fact that he and Alfred used to be friends, to be rude. He knows very well, that they're not anymore, but continues to try and act as if nothing happened. Alfred would like to put the whole Cold War behind them, but they really need to sit down and talk everything out before they can really heal. After all, they were kind of having a death-match that lasted fifty plus years...

[3] Альфред, Russian for America. Kind of Informal because he's intentionally hinting that they're friends. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. My Russian is limited to a few words.

[4] During the Civil War, indirectly (or directly) Russia supported the Union, and sent two fleets to American Waters; this is because the Russians believed that America should act as a counter balance to the British Empire.

[5] Lee Greenwood: American Music Country Artist. Known for Singing "God Bless the USA"

**Culture Notes:**

Personal Space is a bit tricky so I thought I'd elaborate a bit more for everyone out there.

First, personal space differs from regions, depending on where you go. More likely, less personal space is more acceptable to heavily populated places (Washington, D.C) or places with a rather large influx of foreigners (Houston), or places of both (such as New York City). In the South, where I happen to reside, personal space is important. Girls typically stand closer to girls, and boys with each other, unless their in a relationship or family.

An example, would be the first day I went to high school (whatever the name of it is in your country), and a boy a little older then me tried to hand me a club form-my grandfather, and mom who happened to be there dropping me off, nearly had a heart attack when he stepped closer then what was acceptable. (I will put a disclaimer that maybe that was just my family...)

**Author's Notes**: Here's another one. Hope its okay. Still trying to finish off the last six requests…any new ones are welcome. Bye and please—

**Read** and **Review**!

Alfred loves attention!


	15. Age III, Bigger I, and Customs I

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**Warning:** Terrible grammar and irregular updates (school is hard!) Currenting in the midst of editing...

**Summary: **Age is just a number, while size is usually an indication of something (mind of the gutter) and lastly the foreigner complex.

* * *

><p><strong>Age III<strong>

* * *

><p>Age wise—Alfred knew he was strange.<p>

As nation, age appearance was defined by the sum total of years as a nation and the amount of history record in their bodies, and yet…why was he nineteen years old?

Arthur himself has been around for over two thousand year, is only twenty-three, while Francis (whose been around far too long) is twenty-six—hell even China is only thirty-three, so how did he fit into this…?[1]

Even if he counted all the years from history when America was first settle by the Viking he is still notably younger than then everyone else…and frankly Alfred is confused.

Why was he so old?[2]

He doesn't know.

* * *

><p><strong>Bigger I<strong>

* * *

><p>It was something of mystery to Alfred.<p>

Whenever he went overseas—heck anywhere else outside of North America, all the shops and businesses were incredibly tiny. Even a 'supermarket' location over there was barely a quarter of the size of an average store back home. Still, after much thinking (and some observations) Alfred came to the conclusion, that those stores weren't small per say, but that his buildings were huge compared to the rest of world.[3]

Perhaps, it was the lack of space in Europe, perhaps the lack of materials, Alfred didn't know, but watching some foreigners freak out over an American Wal-Mart had to one of the most amusing things he ever had to see—

Well, that, and watching some poor tourist pass out after finding out that the Smithsonian Museum is the world's largest museum…[4]

Alfred smirked.

Those poor, poor foreigners.

They really were in over their heads.

* * *

><p><strong>Customs I<strong>

* * *

><p>As a country, America was different.<p>

Races, religions, mindsets, languages, every sort of ethnic group from around the world lives and works within the United States…so it shouldn't be surprising that tourists coming into the 'States are completely and utterly unprepared for the American way of things.

XXxxxxXX

"What the bloody hell is this?" A British and very familiar person said interrupting the presentation up at the podium.

Alfred smirked, payback really is a bitch. "Why Iggy, since your enchanting (completely pathetic whining and insulting) presentation last week on why we should charge American tourists extra for 'disturbing the peace' and 'operations' of your countries, I've decided to make my own about how utter true the same can be said of everyone else."

Some nations shifted; as Alfred's cold blue eyes scanned the table until finally he turned back to writing at the whiteboard Alfred had a long and very detailed list of items—all of which had a certain areas' name listed in parenthesizes.

**List being the following;**[5]

Peanut Butter (Europe)

Social Customs (Europe & Asia)

Eating Customs (Everyone Else)

Arthur signed, immediately grabbing the dry erase marker from Alfred's hand. "I think that enough Alfred." He said rubbing his forehead.

"Alright, but since I still have so _many_ more things to say (bitch at you for). I'll continue after break too." He said glancing at Germany who, nodded writing down something on the agenda. "After all, I haven't had any speaking time for the past _three_ days, so I should have four hours, right Ludwig?"

Ludwig nodded, looking exasperated.

"Great. So…Peanut butter, Francis can eat frog legs, and snails—"

"—which are fine dining." Francis cuts in looking a bit peeved.

Alfred stares him down. "I didn't say you talk, so be _quiet_." He hissed, crowing Francis.

"As I was _saying_, Francis can eat critters' slimy bodies, and amphibian legs, and butter made from Peanut butter is nasty?

"Well, yes—" Another nation—Ireland says, stepping in the fray.

Alfred growled, scaring them. "Shut up! Peanut butter, is made naturally, and organic, and even if you don't like it, kindly keep your fucking insults to yourself, and stop degrading my children because they are different from you…moving on Social Customs—either learn to live with them, or get the hell out. No one is forcing you to stay and be all pissed off when America doesn't fit your customs—or did the label 'foreigner' not clue you idiots in. It going to be different!"[6]

Germany stood up. "Insulting others is—"

"—against the rules, and completely rude?" Alfred said sneering. "Funny, I didn't hear you stopping the others during their presentations. So shut the fuck up!"

Germany frowned, and return to his seat, decidable perturbed.

"Don't make America mad." Feliciano whispered from his right gulping with his voice was louder than intended, making Alfred frown at him. "Sorry! I didn't mean it ~ve."

"Fine, now back on topic…eating customs." He paused to pick up a second market from the bored, and taking a chair sat directly at the head of table. "When colonies first started forming on my east coast, there was nothing but vast nature, and danger. Bears, tigers, and other dangerous creatures roamed freely. It was not a safe area, and the colonists had no protection. Anything could happen at any time."[7]

He slid a paper in front of himself. "So customs changed to accommodate the need. If you weren't prepared—you died, simple. People ate with one hand in their laps because there were no tables, and secondly because in their laps weapons were placed…and thirdly during the Revolution—" Arthur shifted in his chair, face burning up. "—it was a sign that you were a Patriot, an American. Not a Loyalist. Because they couldn't be anything but _proper_…" He stood up grabbing his papers. "Meeting Adjourned." [8]

The nations didn't need to be told twice, a good majority of who ran out the World Conference doors.

"Alfred—" Matt started reaching out to his brother.

Alfred ignored his hand, walking passed him and out the door.

Enough was enough.

He was done letting them have their way.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Notes:<strong>

[1] Estimated China's age appearance, based on my head canon. If someone has a better age please tell me. For some of this stuff I am literally guessing, and at someone point I fear (besides the pitchforks) this will come back and get me. I figure that the secret of each nation physical age relies upon a set of six categories: land (gained and lost), population, history,

[2] Something that I often wondering and drool over. Even If I include his pre-Revolutionary life Alfred's physical does not canonically make sense-because if it did all the other old world countries would likely be twice his age, if not more. (Alfred is hot!)

[3] Found this out, from a foreign exchange student from my class. Not too sure if it's true…

[4] Yes, the Smithsonian is the world's largest museum, spanning 30 Museums, and dozens of affiliates.

[5] Taken from a very long list of 'American Quirks' some foreigners posted. If anyone is interested I'll give you the url.

[6] Apparently some tourists to the United States, don't know how to read, because the moment they see or encounter something different they do ballistic, and call us barbarians for acting different. Hello it's called Culture!

[7] Very true, I could totally see something happen in the wilderness without any protection. Also a historical theory from where American Eating Customs start.

[8] According to one account of the American Revolution this was a secret sign. Not sure if it's true though…

**Author's Note**: Sorry, that there's no Request s on this chapter. I will make up for this though and put four in the next chapter, but I really wanted to post something for the current fan fictions up before final exams start—because I won't have any time. 'Lost in Transition', 'Perspective' and 'What Family Is' are next, though if I can mange I want to update 'Realizations' again…wish me luck.

And Please **Read** and **Review**—

Alfred loves your support!


	16. Sights I & II, Language I, Беларусь I

**Disclaimer:** Not mine

**Warnings**: Grammar, American Awesome-ness, and history...have a beta but she's starting at the beginning so it might be awhile before she edits this...

**Summary:**

* * *

><p><strong>Sight I<strong>

* * *

><p>A bright sunny day, with a gentle breeze shook the flowers and Alfred watched as the leaves danced in the wind. Spouts of trees, hanging vines, and small colorful seedlings lined the streets as people went about their talking and texting about the news of the day. Shops were bustling with business, and food stands called out advisements as he walked by. Giant hot dogs, pizza's, sandwiches, Chinese food, ice creams shops, and even a small sushi shop dotted the sides as he walked past unable to keep himself from smiling.<p>

It was such a great day—

"Why the bloody hell is it so hot?"[1]

Alfred stopped dead his tracks, turning slightly. Absorbed in actually having a cool, wonderful sunny day that wasn't scorching, or freezing cold, he had forgotten about his little tour...'little' being the completely bad word choice as most of the nations were following him.

Toris was containing the shopping glee that was Poland while off to the side Feliciano and Ludwig were discussing the food prices (Ve~look how cheap the tomato's are! And this _Alfredo_ sauce is only $1—wait Germany how much is that in Euros?"[2]), while off to the side Romano was busy buying up all the baskets of tomatoes he could, sometimes delivering a curse or two when Antonio got a little _too_ touchy feely. Still, it wasn't every day, he got such attention to any of his cities (New York and Washington D.C. notwithstanding), and he was having a blast hosting.

"Mr. America what is that sculpture?" Lili said gesturing to one of the side statures in Central Park.

Alfred smiled sadly. "That's a monument to all the people who sacrificed their lives and when through hardship to come to here. Years ago, when the immigration polices were a lot more lax, people came here searching for hope, and freedoms, some that made it—others who couldn't... still, no matter what those people need to be known, and remembered if history is to change and progress..." He finished, noticing the silence. [3]

The other nations were just staring at him.

"What?"

Toris smiled softy. "Nothing, Mr. A—Alfred...we were just wondering...wondering if..." He trailed off somewhat skittishly.

"If what?"

"—If you could recommend a restaurant." Kiku said from his left.

Apparently no one really wanted to tell him how surprising his little speech was.

Alfred smiled. "Sure. Though we might want to take a trolley. Iggy looks like he's going to keel over."

"I most certainly do not! It's just too bloody hot—"

Alfred raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "It's only ninety degrees—heck, a very cool ninety degrees. Why are you complaining? You're lucky it's the middle of spring or you'd be roasting on the pavement." Eyebrows rose, while Arthur worked himself into a fury.

Apparently ninety degrees was too hot.

"How so Alfred-san?"

Alfred smirked. "Simple. In late summer Texas is one of the hottest places in the country. Temperatures usually go to a hundred degrees—Fine, forty to forty-five Celsius...easily." He amended seeing some of the blank looks from most of the Europeans. [4]

It took one point two seconds before outbursts broke out.

"That's ridiculous, aru!"

"How can anywhere be so hot~ve?"

"You can't be seriously, _mon cher_."

"I did not think that was possible."

"Ignoring all that. Are you somehow insinuating that I'm over the hill?" Arthur hissed arms crossed. His face was the color was a strawberry martini, though whether it was the comment or the heat was hard to tell. Especially considering Arthur was still wearing his usual ansemble of a sweater vest, dark slacks and dress shoes—all of which were not Texas weather friendly.

Alfred smirked.

"Well, if the boot fits." [5]

Arthur flumed.

Some things were just too good to pass up.

* * *

><p><strong>Sights II<strong>

* * *

><p>They were watching him again.<p>

Sitting casually at a huge round table in a modest barbeque restaurant, the nations sat waiting around for their food, talking lightly about random topics…and yet Alfred still didn't feel comfortable.

On his left Toris was politely inquiring about the city's history, and some general facts, and Alfred responded warmly and casually enough, but his shoulders were still stiff. He could feel the stares from his fellow kin eating into him.

And frankly, it was starting to annoy him.

'Was my little speech really that surprising?' He thought, nodding politely to whatever Toris was saying but not really pay attention. Though if he had to guess more than likely Toris was talking about the EU's financial problems—something that came up predicatively every single time anyone had a conversation with him.

Hell, at this point, both the stares and the conversation were going to drive him mad.

"Excuse me?" A voice said breaking though the lull in conversation.

Alfred glanced up from his seat. "Yea?"

" If I could have take the drinks down?"

Alfred nodded. "I'll be ordering for table. "

Instantly the conversation died, and several people signed apparently seeing a caffeinated doom in their future. Arthur glared viciously at him, just daring Alfred to order him some soda.

Alfred ignored them. "If I could have two tanks of lemon, two cups of sherry rose tea, four cup of strawberry aqua fresco, a bottle of white wine of nineteen eighty, a cup of hot tea, and…." He paused for a second thinking. "Do you have the Maria Vida?" [6]

The waiter nodded.

"Good and three glasses of that. How long until the food is finished?"

"The grill master said ten minutes, would you like some appetizers, while you wait?"

"Yes, some cheese sticks, chopped fruit, and a tower."

"Okay," The waiter said nodding. "I have it right out." He walked off, nearly jumping when the silent table suddenly burst into loud conversation.

"What was that—?"

"Why didn't you let us order—?"

"That was rude—"

"What is a tower?"

Alfred didn't even try and answer and covered his ears against the noise waiting until the other nations finally got the hint to shut up if they wanted him to answer anything. He waited an extra minute or two afterwards, before he slowly move his hands from his ears.

"A tower is a four tray set of different types of seafood, half grilled, half fried…and as for the other stuff you'll have to wait for the drinks to arrive." He said smiling as frustration returned to the table.

It was good to have an outlet.

XXxxxxxXX

A few minutes later the same waiter was back with a cart. Three shelves of glasses, and several tea cups, along with two jugs mounted upon it and started disturbed them out without a word. How the man knew who was suppose to receive what was a mystery to the visiting nations, and they took they glasses (or in the case of Kiku and Arthur who had tea cups) with apprehension. Besides the lemonade, none of the other nations had ever heard of some of the drinks.

"And here are your appetizers." The wait said placing the food covered plates in the middle of the table. "Enjoy." He said dismissing himself.

* * *

><p><strong> Languages I<strong>

* * *

><p>From the moment, any of the other countries were clear of Alfred, the language changed, and the smiles turned into sneers, and coarse insults, belittling him. Mexico thought he was smart as hell but standing a few feet away speaking loudly in South American Portuguese was going to be his down fall.<p>

Alfred could hear, thank you very much.

And language barriers were for other people.

Not him.

After the numerous amounts of immigration over and over again, language was no longer an issue—and the startling clarity in understanding the other nations was very enlightening—and very saddening. Faces and attitudes of anger and calls of outrage, and conversations that were better off said in hidden rooms or somewhere away from him were being said _right in front of his face_.

It was irritating and intriguing all at once.

But mostly irritating.

"_**Estados Unidos thinks closing the border will solve anything—he's an idiot. If he would stop selling those fucking guns my people wouldn't be suffering. The cartels would be easily contained. But, no he has to go and call me a failing economy and dare to warn his citizens away!"**_

Spain nodded and the duo walked off, not even bothering to tell his companion to speak quieter.

Alfred gritted his teeth forcing himself to shallow his words.

He needed to keep his language skills secret.

After all, who knew when the next war would come…

* * *

><p><strong>Bielaruś I<strong>

* * *

><p>Contrary to popular belief Belarus and Alfred did not hate each other. In fact, compared to the frosty attitude she showed to the rest of the world (Ivan not withstanding) , one could say that Belarus'—Natalia's only friend was Alfred.<p>

Yet, no one—even the few that did understand the implication didn't understand how either of the two could even stand each other.

They were like oil and water.

They did not mix.

XXxxxxxXX

"So…How'd the date go?" Alfred asked pushing a small cup of hot chocolate to his…friend (a word he definitely would hesitate to use, and probably wouldn't _ever _say it out loud). Natalia wasn't exactly the sentimental type.

Natalia frowned and took the cup, but didn't drink. "It did not 'go' anywhere." She said frowning deeply, gazing over her drink.

Alfred sighed. "Bummer…did he hide again or run?"

"I do not know—Lithuania distracted me again."

Alfred winched. No doubt his poor friend was sporting some broken fingers. Distracting Natalia from her beloved brother tend to do that.

"I see….any new plans?"

"Not at present…why?"

A smirk crept up Alfred's face. He slid two small sheets of paper across the table, with a gleam in his eyes. [7]

"These might interest you."

Natalia picked them up, reading. A cloud of evil forming behind her…

"спасибо, Fredka…I think I could find a use for these…"

Alfred didn't doubt her.

If Natalia was nothing else she was incredibly stubborn when she wanted to be…something that almost made Alfred feel sorry for Russia.

Almost. But not quite.

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

Спасибо: Russian, means thank you.

**Chapter Notes:**

[1] In my native state of Texas temperatures in the summer regular hit 103 plus degrees—that's 39 Celsius and Up…

[2] About 80 cents Euros…cheap compared to the rest of the world.

[3] The other nations keep forgetting that Alfred has to have some brains to be a nation…yet apparently they do forget.

[4] As far I can tell only the United States and a few other countries do not rely on the metric system for everything. (It's really confusing to me who's only grown up with customary until I entered college). And before anyone makes fun of that—try and change Celsius into Fahrenheit without using a calculator…

[5] A somewhat common Texan saying. A warning though to everyone else, (I don't care) but some of the elders and some around here get REALLY angry if you try and be Texan when you're not…

[6] Maria Vida is a drink served in some bars in Texas that combines Seasonal fruits, Lucas, a certain percentage shot of alcohol, and Rose petals.

[7] Those are ballet tickets—something Ivan really likes.

**Author's Note**: Really, late and I am hating it—why are laptops so darn fragile? Hopefully this doesn't suck too much, it was very rushed. Feel free to point out errors I'm sure I didn't catch all of them.

Please **Read **and **Review**!

I promise I'm back really (put away the sharp sticks and the pitchforks)!


	17. Tony I, Sights III, Era Clip VI & VII

**Disclaimer:** Not mine

**Warnings**: Grammar, American Awesome-ness, and history...have a beta but she's starting at the beginning so it might be awhile before she edits this...

**Summary:**

* * *

><p><strong>Tony I<strong>

* * *

><p>The crash landing of Tony the alien happened on July 8, 1947…and yet one very important question remains—how was this strange gray being able to be within the United States and living with the American personification in 1920's when visiting nation Lithuania, Toris Lorinaitis came…?<p>

The answer was both simple and complicated. [1]

XXxxxxXX

_**James Town, Virginia 1962**_

Alfred blinked and glanced over his small memo pad again, still not really understanding. His long time friend, and roommate, Tony the alien wanted to time travel.

Not really anything surprising compared with everything Alfred had learned from his friend (Tony was apparently unable to eat Tofu based products, hated foreigners (non-American with the exception being Lithuania), stored vast amounts of Alfred's blood and DNA samples in the freezer down stairs, and creepily enough promised to display Alfred in front of the Council of Aliens at some point…), but the reason why was a bit vague. [2]

"Ok, explain this to me again, slowly." Alfred prompted pen at the ready.

'Using the time spatial shift, that occurs once every forty-two point seven six five terra cycles on this planet, I plan to return to the United States of America during the era known as the Roaring Twenties. Data is needed to sufficiently prove to the Council that Homo Sapiens are still a young species that is changing at a constant rate if the threat of invasion from outside sources is to be maintained.'

"Yeah, I got that. And…." Alfred made a cycling motion.

'And the date for your appearance in front of the Universal Council is nearing—"

And suddenly everything stopped.

"Wait, what?! What appearance? I thought you canceled that!"

'I simply moved the date and the Council approved the change of times. You will meet with them in the earth year twenty-thirteen, leaving the planetary orbit of Earth on November first, and meet the Council sixteen days later on Xelioius for primary meetings and an introduction, also the Platains—' [3]

"Woah, wait—back up! Aren't those the aliens that decided not to invade—"

'Yes, but that is an entirely separate matter. Do you understand the importance of this trip?'

"Yeah, whatever, just come back soon, got it?"

'Understand. Re-entry will be done as soon as possible.'

"Good… and now for the hard part….how are you going to convince my past-self that you are not some demon or something?"

Tony smirked. 'Leave that problem to Tony.'

And somehow, that didn't make Alfred feel any better.

XXxxxxXX

_**James Town, Virginia 1919**_

Alfred blinked as he opened his front door, a vague amount of surprise and curiosity eating away at him as he glanced over his guest standing on the front pouch.

Whoever, or whatever this creature was—it wasn't human.

A huge smile crept up his face.

It was the start of something beautiful…

* * *

><p><strong>Sights III<strong>

* * *

><p>A few minutes later the same waiter was back with a cart. Three shelves of glasses, and several tea cups, along with two jugs mounted upon it and started disturbed them out without a word. How the man knew who was suppose to receive what was a mystery to the visiting nations, and they took they glasses (or in the case of Kiku and Arthur who had tea cups) with apprehension. Besides the lemonade, none of the other nations had ever heard of some of the drinks.<p>

"And here are your appetizers." The wait said placing the food covered plates in the middle of the table. "Enjoy." He said dismissing himself.

Alfred smiled and passed the plate off to his side, trying not to laugh.

Down the table the other nations were finding the huge amounts of food put in front of them imitating.

The large bowl of mozzarella sticks was particularly other filling, pieces of melted cheese oozing from some of the sticks, while the thin coat of bread crumbs was crispy and surprising devoid of grease—

"What is this—? I thought you asked for an appetizer. Not a bloody entrée—"

Alfred resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "It's not an entrée. It's just an appetizer."

"Ve~ But there's much food, and where's the pasta?"

"Who the fuck knows—get the hell off the potato bastard Feliciano!"

"But _fratello_—"

"No dammit—

"How does it taste Lilli?"

"It's very delicious, _bruder_."

"Good."

"Mozzarella sticks and doors were made in me, daze!"

"No they were not, aru."

"Except for that door that hit England. That door was probably made in China—"

"Aiya!"

"Keep your bloody hands away from me, frog!"

"Honhonhon, you know you love it _Angleterre, _unless of course you've finally found someone else…say our dear _Amérique_—"

Arthur stuttered, finger twitching.

Alfred smirked to himself watching the exchange.

Some things never change…

* * *

><p><strong>Era Clips Vi: Post WWII<strong>

* * *

><p>Rebuilding was never something good.<p>

Natural disasters, chaos, fire—it was always something.

But in the end the result was the same.

People died, families mourned, and guilt—endless guilt.

XXxxxxXX

_**In the aftermath of WWII…**_

"Kiku wouldn't want you here." A sleep voice says watching as America, one of youngest nation's moved debris. It was a strange sight, something that at first surprised the Grecian, but now make him feel a little sad.

Sad, that something like this happened.

Sad that such dangerous weapons were made and used—

"I know but that's not why I'm here." Alfred says whipping sweat from his forehead. Moving the huge pieces of buildings and searching through the aftermath was a hard job, a thankless one, because none of the people he saved said a word to him. Some were simply unable to, but others, they were afraid of him.

Afraid of more.

Afraid of the endless blackness cause by bombs…

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I hurt him and even if it was war— that is unforgivable. People died, families are scattered and it's all my fault—but it's not about me. It's about them—the sad and lost, the lonely and hungry, the people in pain, and that's something I can do—" Alfred trialed off.

"And what if it's not enough? If Kiku hates you?"

"Then Kiku hates me, but nothing is changing my mind, and whether that's enough for these people that's hard to say. I just have to keep trying."

Heracles yawned. "Stubborn…you are very stubborn."

Alfred smiled weakly. "I've been called worse."

* * *

><p><strong>Era Clip VII: September Eleven<strong>

* * *

><p>The morning of September eleventh was a day like any other. He woke up bright and early at seven sharp, grabbed his breakfast, and was watching the news as he shifted over paperwork. His had been a bit behind on it recently and even though he was on break he still had work to do.<p>

8:10

8:25

8:38

8:42

His cell rang, a draught service member was yelling something—screaming, but Alfred couldn't make out anything.

"I can't understand you! Calm down and repeat yourself!"

"Sir," The voice quivered. "An unknown number of planes have been high jacked, control towers are on high alert and—"

8:46

A shot of pain went through his shoulder, almost like a bullet, and white hot pain. He dropped his phone winching, and trying to locate where the bleeding, the pain was coming from—

New York—one of the twin towers.

"Sir! SIR! Are you alright?! SIR!"

Alfred coughed, the air was becoming contaminated. All the surrounding areas were…

He slid to the floor reaching for the phone as another shot of pain went through him. Behind him, a loud noise went up, and Tony kneeled on the floor next to him, questioning him.

But he didn't reply, couldn't.

All he could hear were screams…

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

_Fratello_: brother in Italian.

_Bruder_: brother in German.

**Chapter Notes:**

[1]Always something that made me confused. According to history and data from six different websites, and twelve books the Roswell, New Mexico landing occurred in 1947 on July 8—several years and tons of time after the Roaring Twenties were done and over with. So then why is Tony in the Roaring strip where Lithuania is shown working for Alfred? After all, the Great Depression happened (1930-1940)… so my answer is simple. Tony the alien time traveled.

[2] While on earth Tony is researching human cultures, and biology, but really he spends most of his time goofying off with Alfred and playing video games.

[3]A slight spoiler for the Hetalia Movie: Paint it White. I couldn't really remember how to spell their names, so this will have to be good enough.

**Author's Note**: Really don't think I did this piece much justice considering I was only eight at the time, and I really didn't want to research too much (cause then I start crying and then the ability to type leaves me)…. This took me much longer than I would have liked to finish, and is somewhat of a fail… As always relationships are up to the reader.

**Read** and **Review**

Alfred would love to hear from you…


	18. Past I

**Disclaimer**: Not mine

**Warnings:** Grammar, American Awesome-ness, and history...have a beta but she's starting at the beginning so it might be awhile before she edits this...

**Summary:**

* * *

><p><strong>Past I<strong>

* * *

><p>From the <strong>Record of Alfred F. Kirkland<strong> (a line scratched out the word) **Jones**

_**9, of June 1666** [1]_

It was on a dark rainy day, when I finally met one of Arthur's children. I had escaped my caretaker, an old woman, named Elizabeth. She was an old kind of lady who liked things neat and tidy so naturally we didn't get along. When Arthur told her something she obeyed it without complaint, and more than anything else she hated noise. At some point, I begin to wonder if she hated me…

But that's another story…

After escaping Elizabeth, I snuck down to the town. I hid in the bushes in the nearby forest at the edge of the dirt road watching as people (some my children and some Arthur's) went about their business in their daily lives. It was a wondrous sound in a beautiful scene to watch as step by step progress was being made.

I was so happy and so glad to be out of that house that's sat at the edge of woods far away from the town that before I could help it I had stepped into the brick and had become lost in the crowds. Here and there people went places, and I too was among them. I wasn't just a nation anymore; I too was free like them.

I moved from my spot, and walked down the alley glancing around trying to see everything and anything at once. Across the street, there was a printing shop, a tailor's office, and the letter office while on my side; there was a Baker, the butcher, and the blacksmith. Into their separate shops people talked and chatted most ignoring my presence but some casting a strange look upon me.

While being in front of the tax collector's stone bridge manner two guards in red outfits, looked on upon the crowds. They were part of the British army and a helping hand in keeping the peace. Yet, something about them seemed… off. Darker somehow. The guard on the right was shooting hungry looks at the ladies passing by.

Like those looks Mr. Francis-frog sometimes sent Arthur whenever the two could be bullied to be in one room.

I didn't like those looks.

They reminded me of those other nations, the ones who, in the beginning couldn't stop trying to use me, to use what I was…

Regardless, I should have moved on, but I didn't. Something compelled me to stay. What is was? I don't know.

I stayed and sat on a nearby crate in an alleyway adjacent from where the guards were posted and I watched. And wait.

I didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later, a young girl who was passing by was stopped by the guard on the right. They had a whispered conversation that I couldn't hear; their hushed voices and odd gestures confused me. They talk for a few seconds before the guard made a waving motion with his wrist getting a nod from the guard on the left. The two conversers' moved away from the tax collector's building and sped off getting lost in the crowds and away from my sights.

I almost wanted to run after them but I didn't. Not really able to understand why I watched them to begin with.

Whenever the case, I put those thoughts out of my mind and went on to go look at more exciting things.

Up the street there was a strange vendor, selling boxes of Tea. The kind I knew Arthur liked but never really got to have, while he was here because although Elizabeth took care of me she was often absence minded about things that were blatantly obvious.

Looking into the shop windows, I couldn't help but stare in amazement. There upon all the shelves were different kinds of box drinks, some I recognized and others I couldn't read it all. Still maybe if I got a gift for Arthur he might actually smile this time.

Last time all he did was fake smile. But I could tell he was in pain, deep pain.

Wherever or whatever Europe was it was a dreadful place this much I could tell even if Arthur didn't want me to know. Because every time he came back he was covered in wounds some his clothes couldn't hide—not that he tell me of course. Instead he preferred to laugh it off and tell me some lie about shipbuilding or something. I never really did pay attention to his excuses…

Entering the shop a strong sweet smell hit my nose instantly, sweet, spicy and sour. I didn't know such smells existed, and frankly I probably could have lived the rest of my existence without knowing that. I put a hand over my face covering my nose, and stepped towards the counter waiting patiently as the shopkeeper walked around filling the orders of other patrons. It took a few minutes but eventually he did come to me, giving me an appraising look as he did so.

"Well, well what do we have here?" he asked. His hands on his waist as the businessman sends me smile.

Although I shouldn't have been surprised, whether this person knew it or not he was one of my children. I knew this, just as I knew every single fact about him. Just one glance into his eyes told me all I ever need to know about him…

Still it was a little nerve wracking.

Very few of my children I knew, or met personally.

Arthur was very secretive of me.

Remembering that the shopkeeper, James Wilson asked me a question I hastily asked. "How much is your earl grey tea?"

He blinked, for some reason caught off guard, but said a number in pounds.

I nodded and took out the required change, sliding it across his desk. He nodded and walked off. About a minute later he came back and placing gently a medium sized box full of tea leaves he took the money off the desk and counted it.

"Exact amount," He said a grin creeping up his face.

He slid the box over to my side, and waved me out returning to some chore as I exited the strange smelling shop heading back south exiting the town.

As much as I wanted to stay—I couldn't.

Elizabeth would notice my absence soon and—

A muffled scream from the alley way next to me made me jump. Spinning in that direction, I raced down the pavement running to help. Perhaps someone had fallen and gotten hurt? Maybe there was a giant rat or something? I didn't know. But…I wasn't prepared when my eyes met the dead end.

The two people I had watched earlier—the man I didn't trust was standing over the girl—Susan Watson, and she was dead. I could feel it, could see it in front of me. Blood pooled around her limp body from her head and a bloody metal weapon was clutched in the man's hands.

He was a murder.

I stepped back, a dry, rustic leaf crunching under my shoes.

The man spun around, a sickening fear in his eyes, and a determination. He was going to do anything to keep me quiet. Anything.

Stumbling back, I rushed forward, running like I had never run before. I knew I shouldn't have been frightened, but I was. The human part of me—the part that wasn't just a personification was terrified. It didn't matter that the person chasing me was a human, and that I was nation. At that moment I feared death.

Dodging around the trashcans on the side of the alley I raced down the pavement mixing in with the crowd. I didn't look back once, afraid of what I might see. I ran and ran leaving the town behind me, and speeding into the Virginian House where I lived. I ignored the screaming racket Elizabeth made as I past, and cowered under my bed using blankets to block the edges.

I didn't dare come out, not for dinner, not for breakfast, not for anything. I stayed waiting under that bed listening to the last screams of Susan Watson, and crying. I could feel her killer returning to his patrol, and like a coward, I could feel other crimes happening.

Hear other ghosts…

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Notes:<strong>

[1]The Journal was giving to Alfred by Arthur as something to do recording his day to day life, but Arthur's never bothered to check. As a result, almost all of the entries are written in languages that are not English, like the American Native languages, Spanish, French, and German.

**Author's Note**: Hope this isn't too gruesome for anyone. I'm trying to update everything, but some of my stories are not cooperating at all. It's annoying. This little glimpse of the past takes place a little after Arthur finds Alfred. So Alfred hasn't completely integrated all the people yet. Probably isn't going to come up often because I find it annoying to write like this, and for another I see/feel that many readers dislike this kind of chapter.

At some point I really will get back to my requests, because I hate leaving them there gathering dust, but it'll be awhile. Things are pretty hectic as it is.

Anyhow, Please **Read **and **Review**.

Alfred needs comfort.


	19. ConfusedII,MochiII,DustI,BlameI,QuoteI

**Disclaimer:** Never mine.

**Warnings:**slightly darker themes, my grammar, maybe a hint of ooc, and American-ness

**Summary:** Mochi, a devious plot, a dream, and a painful past, and quotes.

* * *

><p><strong>Confusion II<strong>_**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>There were some days when you wake up that you wonder what alien planet you were sent to in the middle of the night. Strange, incredibly bizarre events happened, like people not acting like themselves, shoes on the ceiling; the list went on and on.<p>

Except for now.

Alfred rubbed his eyes, blinking warily as the image came back into focus, his sleep influenced brain still not able to compute the sight before him. There a little more than ten feet in front of him were the other nations, huddled in a small corner talking. It was five minutes to seven, and he was standing in his pajamas in the living watching the rest of the personification converse, yet the sight before Alfred's eyes could not be any less strange. Nor did it make any sense.

He slide out his iphone from one of the inner pockets of his night shirt and flipping through the apps clicked on the calendar, scrolling down until he came to what he was looking for. The month of October…and there was nothing.

He yawned and replaced his phone, going back to staring at the nations in sleepy surprise, and a little exasperation. Bits of their conversation were easily carrying themselves to him, though the core topic still seemed to elude him and his sleep clouded mind.

"—are you sure? I don't think Amérique would be so—"

"—and how would you know you stupid frog?! You don't know anything—"

"Please don't fight again. What if we wake Alfred up?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada!"

"Be quiet, aru."

"Confusion and Espionage was invented in me, daze!"

"Aiya! No it wasn't!"

"—still, this doesn't seems like him, _mon Chou_—"

"—oh, belt up you frog. Obviously, the git's thrown some type of tantrum and now we have to—"

"_Nien _Feliciano. I doubt Amerika hates us_—"_

"Get your hands off my stupid _fratello. _You fucking potato bastard!"

"Ve~ but Lovino—"

"Listen to me dammit—"

"See Gilbert. The level of awesomeness in this room is sad."

"What the bloody hell?! Who invited Prussia?!"

"Well, you see _Angleterre, _I—"

"Dammit, you wanker! I specially told you to leave the wanker in Europe—"

"Perhaps, we should be a little quieter? Alfred–san is still sleeping and I doubt he would want to—"

"Isn't _mi tomate_ just the cutest—?"

Alfred signed, and walking over to one of his cabinets, he pushed aside some random knickknacks and some sports trophies as he searched for one item in particular. He found it behind the old record player in the corner of the table where was the loudspeaker was.

It was a speakerphone.

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. [1]

* * *

><p><strong>Mochi II<strong>

* * *

><p>Returning from the world conference was a lot less annoying with the Mochi-counterpart Tony made for him. Instead of having to stay behind after the meeting and answer annoying questions (and accusations) about the struggling economy (that was mostly due the European Union) he was ushered out with some heartfelt goodbye's and some Chinese candies.<p>

But mostly the heartfelt goodbyes—

"Lame. Why'd they blame you?" Mochi-America asked jumping up and down on Alfred's shoulder. He kept looking back at the World Conference room, and at Alfred, a line of worry on his small ball figure.

Alfred shrugged (keeping a sideways glance on his new friend as to not drop him). "Because if they blamed themselves, they'd never be able to face their people—"

"_So_? It's not your fault they're idiots. If you really _were_ the problem with the economy they wouldn't be in trouble now_, they_ wouldn't be in debt. They wouldn't be sick. But they are~! So they're idiot, and jerks." He said determinedly. "Besides, they're just jealous, they're not awesome America's like us."

Alfred laughed. "Obviously, those poor bastards. Must be stuffy to live so close to each other all the time. I spend two seconds in Europe and already I want to come home. God, think of the history they have. Just the thought makes me queasy."

Mochi-America smiled. "See? Jealous I tell you?"

"I see—"

'Alfred.' A third voice said interrupting the two.

Standing in the door way of their house was Tony. He was holding a strange grey device, with glowing dials. It was probably a new kind of alien tech he was messing with. Tony was leaning against the doorway, leaving space for the duo to enter, his glowing red eyes trained on the two.

"Hey buddy." Alfred greeted, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat hanger in the foyer closet.

'How was the meeting?' Tony asked pushing some buttons on the device.

Alfred smiled brightly. "It was awesome. I introduced my new friend, and the others particularly had a cow. I think I might have broken Iggy though, he was looking rather pale…" He said absently, remembering the odd expression on his former-mentor's face.

Tony nodded, and taking a hold of a corner of Alfred's shirt dragged him into the Living Room. He pushed him into a seat, and floating a pizza from the box, handed it to Alfred. Mochi-America jumped from his perch on Alfred's shoulder on to Tony's and as one, both of them retreated in the confines of Tony's rooms.

Alfred blinked, watching them go.

Was he missing something?

**XXxxxxXX**

'Report.' Tony commanded, placing the small blob on a metal plate and turning on the large screen in one corner of the room. The large device resembled security surveillance with different small screens showed different sets of information.

But there was one major difference.

In the center of the screen a large majority of them were broadcasting videos of Alfred, some in real time in varies angles and others from the past.

"Alfred F. Jones' levels of stress are still too high. I noted the major cause to the harsh actions of the other personifications in response to the recent economy crash, and deemed your worries justified. Also, his level of blood sugars, overall sleep, and vitamins are dangerously low."

Tony growled harshly. A series of clicks, and metallic sounds coming from him, like curses.

'Anything else?'

"Yes," The Mochi-America said pausing. "I am unsure if you are aware, but Alfred F. Jones appears to have a long series of cuts, scrapes, burns and other injures on his left side—"

Tony hissed, dropping the gadget in his appendages, and speeding out of the room. He barely wasted time to pick up the small Mochi before he made a beeline out of the room, and back upstairs and back to Alfred. Using a speed the small being didn't know he was capable of, he sped across the hallway, dashing by the foyer, and up to the room above—the only place he could feel a human presence.

Alfred's room.

The door was closed, but that was no barrier to the alien. Slamming the door open, Tony dashed in freezing in place.

But he wasn't the only one.

Frozen in the act of changing into his pajamas, Alfred's shirt was lying on the floor, a long line of cutting injuries dotting his left side, trailing down beneath his pajama pants where it disappeared before reappearing on his left foot. Some of which were still bleed profusely having been wrapped sloppily and much too quickly.

Obviously, Alfred had been trying to keep his injuries a secret.

'Alfred.' Tony gritted a surge of anger flaring up, and his big red eyes glowing yellow. 'Did I not say you were kin…explain the reason why you did not inform me of your injuries—'

"They're not the bad. I just need some bandages and—"

'I am not a personification, particularly one of those _Europeans._' He spat out. 'We are kin. I need to know about your injuries.'

"But—"

'That was not a question.' He stated levitating Alfred from the floor and gently dropped him onto the bed. 'Now lie down straight, and do not move.'

Alfred sighed."Fine…"

Tony did his alien version of nod, and went about his duties, summon strange devices, and a silky looking cloth which he used to wrap and clean all of Alfred's wounds. In what seemed like not time at all Alfred was sliding his pajamas back on (Tony made him remove his pants to wrap a particularly nasty cut near his calf), feeling extremely tired.

'Sleep.'

Alfred nodded smiling, as happiness followed him into sleep. [2]

* * *

><p><em>Trippers and askers surround me,<em>

_People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation,_

_The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new,_

_My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues,_

_The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love,_

_The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,_

_Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events;_

_These come to me days and nights and go from me again,_

_But they are not the Me myself._ [3]

* * *

><p><strong>Dust I<strong>

* * *

><p>In his dreams for so long, he can fell himself falling into the abyss, his thoughts and words questioned by the evil taking his fellow nations forms pressing him. Wanting to know so <em>much<em>. To know what he truly is, what is the real truth of freedom? What is Alfred F. Jones?

And because of that the questions and statements that come—

"It seems like you're always laughing, America-san."

Alfred blinked trying to peer in to the darkness before him, and see Kiku's real expression but he couldn't see it, and for some reason his feet wouldn't move.

"Because if you laugh, then everything seems a lot brighter." He said, and Kiku vanishes as he stumbles forward trying to reach him. His legs finally complying but no one's there.

"But América," A voice says from behind him.

Alfred turns, the familiar form of Antonio standing there behind him another shadow blocks out his face.

"It seems like you're laughing whenever I see you." He says a bizarre grin on his face.

Alfred blinked. "Well, you're always smiling aren't you?"

"Sí, but, why are you always laughing? We know why _we_ do things, but you…you're different. So why _Estados Unidos de América_?"

"Because," Alfred said walking past them. "Smiling isn't easy. It's hard, but worth it in the end."

"So Amérique, that tells us nothing." Francis said appearing in front of him. "Why are you able to be happy? _Pourquoi?_"

Alfred snorted at that and walked past him. "Why are you unhappy? That's should be your question. Not mine. "

Another specter appeared in his path one he knew too well.

"That's a lie, you git. You're unhappy too, but still you smile like a bloody fool. _Why?_"

Alfred paused, standing completely still, the words coming from him in cold cruelty so painful, and desperate.

"The reason's simple, England. It because of you, all of you. Europe and Asia, because of Canada. I smile to protect myself from you." [4]

* * *

><p><strong>Blame I<strong>

* * *

><p>"You know you should really apologize to Arthur." Matt said during one particular long lull in the conversation.<p>

It was little past noon, and the two were huddled outside a Starbucks drinking some coffee, when the Canadian once again brought up the topic. Alfred knew it would come.

It was like clockwork every single year, a day before his birthday (and after his brother got over his depression that only a few people remembered his birthday), he would travel south, strike up a brotherly outing and then throw the provincial oil into the fire by bring up the revolution.

Again.

It had been two-hundred and thirty-one fucking years since the revolution, so why for the love of god did everyone insisted on bringing it up?

Or blaming him?

A vein popped on Alfred head, and the metal spoon he was using to stir his coffee cracked loudly, drawing his brother's eyes to the damage.

"No." Alfred said.

Matt bristled.

"But surely—"

"Surely, you can keep your damn mouth shut? Right, Matt? Because frankly it none of your fucking business!" He hissed ignoring the looking from all the other bystanders curiously listening in.

"No, I—"

"Enough. I don't care if you stayed with Arthur longer then I did. I don't fucking care. It's been over two-hundred years. Enough is enough, dammit. We both fought in that war, and guess what families were torn apart on both sides, and the people fighting were _mostly_ Americans—but does anyone think I might be a little hurt over it? _No_! All anyone ever says is stupid America, fat America, you-don't-know-anything-America, what a cruel bastard you are America! Well, guess what every single fucking single someone tries to lord over me using the revolution or any of the other goddamn wars, I get a little pissed off."

Alfred slammed his hands on the table, leaning closer to his brother. "But hey, I thought I let it slid a little considering how fucked up the rest of the world is, and give everyone a break. But _no._ You all just love to push me, don't you—representatives hiding behind me?"

A shudder went through the coward, and the majority of people dispersed leaving behind a select few, all of whom were personifications.

"You are being cruel Amérique."

"And you're not? But then again it not like anyone has any right to throw stones, eh Canada?" He said turning to his brother, a thumb pointing his heart, before it slide to his left shoulder.

All of which were places were scars lay, places where Canada had fought against his brother, and infected burning wounds.

Francis hissed. "You have gone too far—"

Alfred chuckled coldly. "You too France. This conversation is over."

He moved passed them, stopping at the crossroads to glance back at them to deliver one final message. "Consider my birthday party this year canceled, and don't show your faces, or I be tempted to show you why Switzerland's such a _bad_ marksman." [5]

* * *

><p><strong>Quotes I [6]<strong>

* * *

><p>"What the bloody hell do you mean you lost the Queen?!" –Arthur<p>

"Mattie's not on the missing list again is he?" -Alfred

"I found the atmosphere Ludwig, ~ve!"—Feliciano (shows off a science magazine titled 'Atmosphere')

"Why is there a mountain of candies under your shirt, aru?" -Yao to Alfred

"_Bruder_, why are you afraid of Mr. Feliciano?"—Lili

Vash shivers and mutters something about a "ride" and "cars".

"Mama mia!"—Lovino

"Honhonhon. This is a lovely...secret Amérique." Francis finding Victoria's Secret.

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

Sí: means 'yes' in Spanish

Estados Unidos de América: means 'United States of America' in Spanish, should be obvious though.

Pourquoi: means 'why' in French

Mon Chou: means 'my cabbage' in French, for some reason used as a term of endearment.

Angleterre; means 'England' in French

Mi tomate: means 'my tomato' in Spanish

Fratello: means 'brother' in Italian

Nien: means 'no' in German.

Bruder; means 'brother' in German

**Chapter Notes:**

[1] Taken from watching a documentary called "The World Without Us": basically what would be affected if the USA decided to back to states of isolation once more. Very informative. Watch it!

[2] During hurricane Sandy many countries offered assists, but officially the US couldn't not accept many of them for various reasons—most of which very political. Some examples being, that many of other countries would favors later, or be favored. As a side note: the United States gives the most clarity in the world.

[3] A part of poem used from Walt Whitman's Songs of Myself. He's a very well known American writer and artist. I couldn't help but think that his words would be Alfred's thoughts…

[4] Based off of a US/UK fan art comic by someone (apparently the artist forgot to put their name). If you want the link, feel free to ask me. But be warned the end (like the last three pages has some 18-Rated Sex) scene. Still, once again, **I intended NO PAIRINGS**, you can take this little one-shot anyway you want.

[5] On a list of the world top's top twenty snipers, twelve of them are from the USA, the top of which is Carlos Hathcock who used a glare from an enemy's sniper scope over a mile away in pitch darkness to aim. Switzerland doesn't even rate.

[6] Something kind of random that threw itself in to here about five minutes before posting. If it's annoying ignore it. It's probably terrible anyways.

**Author's Notes:** Still kind of lame considering I still haven't finished those requests! I hate myself so much. It's like every time I sit down to write them my brain melts, and I'm stuck. But no, as soon as I think about a different prompt or something the writing flows….its dumb I tell you. Well, finals are coming up next week so updates will be delayed a little more, bit have no fear-after finals updates will happen more frequently!

Please **Read** and **Review**!

Tony's watching...


	20. Birthday I, Dust II and Hero I

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**Brief Author's Note**: I LIVE! On to the small chapter (lie).

**Summary**:

* * *

><p><strong>Birthday Parties I<strong>

* * *

><p>Every year without fail, he always invited his fellow countries over to celebrate his official birthdays. Still, even when they did arrive, they mostly came late no matter how often he gave them the time [1] in their hours [2].<p>

Still, there was a part of him that wanted to stop having them over.

"Then tell them that, Alfred."

Alfred jumped, nearly dropping the party plates he had arranged. He turned around, unable to believe the words he just heard. It had been so long since he heard those words, especially in that tone. That _voice_.

"Ben…jamin." He whispered feeling a lump in his throat. [3] Feet from him leaning against the stairway rail, out in the foyer was one of the few people he held in high regard—Benjamin Franklin, the great scientist, but he had died...?

"Ay?" Ben said a warm smile on his face, and his walking stick perched across the staircase., even from where Alfred was standing it wasn't hard to see how translucent his friend was.

"How—I, but—?" Alfred tried unable to form either the words or the though process to explain even one part of what he was feeling.

Ben stepped forward, taking his walking stick from the wall, and walking until he was closer to his nation until he was little more an a foot away.

"Calm yourself ,lad. I am simply here because we felt you need the comfort." He patted Alfred on the shoulder, both ignoring the fact that even as he did so, his hand went through Alfred. It was expected, Benjamin was a ghost, long dead, but the motion still comforted Alfred.

A mischievous look entered his warm brown eyes, as he took in the sight of Alfred's home, far changed from the small wooden house it had been when he lived as a colonist. [4] "Though I have to say, a party with such beautiful ladies, is simply scandalous. Dear lad, I dare say Jefferson will be struck silent at the leave of respect of this time."

Alfred laughed, feeling his sides ache at the thought. It was a thought that made tears come to eyes. He could see it now. Mr. Jefferson had always been so dignified, so untouchable by the dirt of everyday life, that imagining him now, attending his birthday party would have rendered him mute[5] or given him a stroke.

"It's a good laugh, is it not." Ben said leaning on his cane. "Though as funny as that might be, there still remains, reason of my original purpose."

"Purpose?" Alfred asked wiping some tears from the corner of his eyes.

"Yes, lad. My purpose." Ben said making direct eye-contact with Alfred (a good thing too, because Alfred had no doubt that had Ben seen Tony scaling the stairs behind him, anything the scientist had to say would be forgotten).

"My purpose for coming today, is to remind you of the beginning, as positively gentle that may be." He said watching as the shadows returned to Alfred's eyes.

"…which part?" Alfred asked, his eyes sliding to where the entrance to the attic was, in the space directly above Benjamin's head...where the storage room was located. Where his past rested, in silence, and decay waiting.

Still, Alfred shifted his eyes, away from it.

It was annoying how no matter how much time past someone, somehow managed to bring up the past. Whether it be about the frigging' Revolution, or something else, it was always about the past.

It was a little...irritating and painful.

"You should let it rest. Should you not?" Ben said throwing the words between them, without any of the normal flowery waxing of 1800's language, but in the silence of the house, they stayed there, hanging between the two.

Alfred blinked, feeling a sheet of ice drop in to his stomach.

"I should...let the past rest...?" He said trying to grasp the thought as impossible as it was.

He was a personification, he was suppose to live in the past. It was the reason for his exsistence.

Ben nodded smiling. "Yes, dear lad. You should let it rest."

"But I do!" Alfred argued feeling a little upset on his own behalf. He wasn't like the European bringing it up during every trade deal, or like the Asian that threw it in his face, anytime he said anything.

"I don't talk about it like all the other countries, and I don't let it get in the way of business! Like last week, I completed another deal to exchange goods with Japan, and I used to hate him [6], and we're friends now. The same with Britain and-"

"That's not what I mean lad."

Alfred blinked, feeling more confuse then he had been. "Then what do you mean?"

"I care little if you decide to let other nations know your secrets, but I know you have taken to burying them within this house. Forgotten and ignored among the dust, trying to forget it, exsisting with it."

"But-"

Benjamin smiled sadly. "Could you truly say that your letting the past rest as it should? Or has the old world finally taken hold of ye?"

Alfred frowned, a headach forming.

"I...don't understand what your telling me. Am I doing something wrong?" He asked running a hand through his hair, and taking off his glasses to clean them. "I don't know what you want me to do, and I'm not sure. I might never be sure what you want me to do, but I'm the personification of the United States of America, so I have duties, and rules."

He replaced his glasses, catching sight of Tony standing and watching the interaction from his spot on the landing above them."I have voices talking to me all the time. Three hundred and nineteen million of them, from so many people confused, and lost, and every emotion under the sun, on top of everything, so I may never know, what I'm suppose to do for anything."[7]

"However, I'm not content to stay the same. I will get stronger, day by day, so that the past, as painful as it is, becomes something I can remember and look back on...because everything that's happened is a precious memory. The good and the bad, nothing could have changed if I had stayed the same and..." He went silent as he caught sight of the bright smile on his old friend's face.

"What?" He said feeling a blush on his cheeks.

He was being serious!

Ben laughed. "Oh, nothing... I was considering, how very right Mr. Washington was. He told myself and the others that we should look ahead to the young and new generations of Americans arising, to know you would be well cared for."

"Huh?" Now, Alfred knew he was lost.

What did new Americans have to do with anything?

"Oh never you think upon it." Benjamin said patting Alfred's head, as he did when he was alive. "Now...as we are done with the important business perhaps you could explain to me what has changed in the world...?" He eyed some of the fixtures along the wall.

And somehow, Alfred felt lighter.

* * *

><p><strong>Dust II <strong>[8]

* * *

><p>He was having that same dream again.<p>

He was standing in a dark empty space, with only a single light shining on him. Dark shadows came as him from the edges reaching for him, as people he knew during the daytime appeared, their eyes obscured from him.

Into his light a figure of Germany appeared, holding a stack of papers, dressed in his military outfit.

"Why are you so strange, Amerika?" He asked handing the papers off into a shadowy figure. His mouth was set in a line, full of tension.

"I'm not strange." Alfred said watching as Germany vanished, another person taking his place.

Canada appeared holding, not his pet bear but a doll, red and decaying. His clothes were tattered, and scuffed in places.

"Are you sure, Alfred? Because I think so." He said dropping the doll, not caring that it broke into pieces, splashing them both with porcelain fragments.

Alfred frowned watching as the fragments melted into the ground leaving behind black spots. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you take chances,ve~" North Italy said his face pressed on his arms, much like the Cheshire cat. He was on a strange column above Alfred, that oddly enough was lit, looking down at him, before both spectres vanished.

"What chances?" He yelled, frustrated and confused.

"These chances, daze." A specter said from behind him. South Korea was there, a smile of malice on his face, and a shadow hiding his eyes. He was holding out a bloody lump of something, but Alfred couldn't see what it was, from where he was standing.

"What is that...?" Alfred asked, a part of himself, screaming that he shouldn't look, shouldn't know what that lump was, but another part of him, was demanding he know.

Yong Soo sneered. "This? Why don't you see for yourself." He tossed the bloody thing at Alfred, where it fell short in front of him rolling.

It was a bleeding heart, blood dripping to the floor in a puddle around it.

"Why do you have a heart?" Alfred asked quietly, trying to ignore how...gruesome this was.

"Because, Mr. America," Toris said stepping into the light. "This is what you give us, over and over again." He was holding a knife dripping with blood.

"What do you mean?!" Alfred said running forward, reaching out.

He friend vanished into thin wispy smoke.

"Your feelings, Mr. Amerika," Latvia said picking up the heart. Blood dripped from his hands, all over his boots, but he didn't seem to care. "This is your feelings."

To the side of him, Liechtenstein appeared. Her usual sun dress reduced to rags, and her purple ribbon no where to be found.

"Will you keep them this time, Mr. Alfred?" She asked pointing at his chest.

It was only then that he noticed there was a huge hole in his chest.

* * *

><p><strong>Hero I<strong>

* * *

><p>When Alfred was little, his dream was to become a hero.<p>

In his storybooks, heros were wonderful people that although had their tough time, managed to do important things. To him, who depended on England for everything, they were the role model.

Heroes were strong and invincible, and everything he wasn't.

He couldn't protect Arthur, or help him fight those wars.

And he couldn't protect the Native people who lived on his lands as his people-all of them killing each other.

So he waited hoping that as he grew older things would become easiler, but it was only after he had grown into a teenage that he realized that there were no heroes.

His childhood dream of becoming one, seemed as impossible as ever.

"The hero is here!"

Maybe if he said it enough times, it would come true...

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><p><strong>Chapter Notes<strong>:

[1] In American culture, showing up late to an invited event especially to someone's birthday, or graduation party, is considered extremely rude. Unless you are directly related to that person, and are arriving late because you want to make sure (unspoken) that friends, and other guests get first servings and there is enough food to go around. If this was done in the South (like where I live) I can almost guarantee that doing this, means being turned away at the door.

[2] In America, people use 12-Hour time, with the only exception being military, who uses the 24-Hour clocks.

[3] Benjamin Franklin, a founding father of the United States, and "A world-renowned polymath, Franklin was a leading author, printer, political theorist, politician, postmaster, scientist, inventor, civic activist, statesman, and diplomat."[ from wiki] had a direct impact on everything from libraries to glasses. He was a very interesting person, that unlike most of the founding fathers, didn't pretend to be anything he wasn't (Thomas Jefferson always tried to reform his womanizing ways, but failed) and for some reason seem larger then life in Europe (this part has always confused me).

[4] Unlike the medium –sized house featured in the comic strips, Alfred, himself would have lived more simply. Most colonists in those days had only one stories houses, with the slightly richer people able to spend money to have brick imported from Europe. Houses were general made of wood, with a dirt or hard stone floor. (If you lived in town things were a bit better, but life span was considerably short due to the various outbreaks of diseases that popped up every so often as well as the random Indian raid).

[5] In Thomas Jefferson's time, (1700's-1800's America) a young women was always escorted, and never left in the presence of an unmarried man, though usually by the time most women were in their late teens they were married. (Remember the standard of living was bad.) As part of the upper crust of this time, in American History, Jefferson was a respected man that held to these beliefs so trying to imagine him in today's world would be funny. Extremely so.

[6] Think WW2. Everyone from the president from the common person although said they were neutral in the beginning of the war, most sided with the allies. Hopefully, no one's offended. Alfred just using as an example.

[7] Official population clock-which according to it, the United States of America now has a population of 318,377,000, the third largest in the world, right under India and China.

[8] Refer, to Dust I, for the prequel. The First part of the Dust collection comes from a Doujinshi I from called "Dust Smoke View" which does does have some sex-scenes in the last couple of pages. If anyone wants it feel free to drop me a line.

**Author's Notes**: Finally updating...but good greakin' grief its been two years! Where has my life gone...? The rest of my stories will be updated asap, hopefully neither those updates, or this new chapter aren't too terrible. Forgive me! I know there are terrible, terrible grammar mistakes in this chapter, but I really wanted to post something before I went to bed. If the grammar is really bad feel free to roast it (or roast me).

Please **Read** and** Review **(I promise to update more often this time).


	21. Question I, Sight IV, & Coins I

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**Brief Authors Note**….I am terrible. Feel free to steal my waffles (breakfast is overrated anyway).

**Summary**: Alfred has some questions. Culture reappears, Tony reappears and coins.

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><p><strong>Question I<strong>

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><p>It was something he wondered sometimes when he was alone in his room, on those late nights after a long, hard day. It was one question that he wouldn't ever admit to, nor ask out loud, but it was still something he wondered about in his darker moments.<p>

What if I wasn't there?

What would Europe do?

What would Asia do?

Would things be better?

What would the world be like?

For, all that the European Union, and even those in Asia made remarks that he was interfering too much in the politics of other nations, what would they do if he left?

What would happen if I didn't exist?

How much would be different?

'Do you want to know?' A familiar voice said, stepping into the dark room,but even in the darkness it wasn't difficult to see his friend (or imagine the face he was making).

(The alien tended to react kind of strange whenever he mentioned the other nations, so much so, that Alfred wondered if maybe he liked them more.)

Although it was a little after midnight, Tony wasn't down in his lab.

Alfred blinked, the words barely hitting him. "What did you say?"

'I asked if perhaps you might to know the answer.' Tony replied, pressing some buttons on his arm, where that strange arm bracelet was. 'Do you? I have both the capability and the knowledge for such an excursion if you desire so.'

"R-really?"

'Yes.'

"But, wouldn't that be dangerous—"

'Not more then 0.0000005 percentage, but I would have to re-calculate if you'd prefer a more exact number.' Tony said bringing up some more floating screens. 'But this remains to be done. I will ask again, do you want to know, Alfred Jones?'

Alfred swallowed a lump in his throat.

Did he want to know?

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><p><strong>Sights IV<strong>

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><p>The fact that they were staring again was starting to irate him.<p>

A lot.

Seriously, what was he wrong doing his time?

He patted down his jacket feeling the eyes digging into him, as he resisted the urge to say something rather rude. [1]

Maybe if he just ignored them for a bit, they would stop.

But five minutes later, he found his efforts in vain.

They were _still_ staring.

"What?" Alfred said, a bit of heat in his voice, while he switched hands. He cut his steak, and took a bite, while he moved his spoon to the soup with his left, stirring it a bit. Some of the nations, the more shyer nations immediately turned back to their food, while others looked away all feeling uncomfortable, but unwilling to say anything.

Except for Hungary.

"Why do you do that, Mr. Amerika?" Hungary asked, intrigued, and ignoring the face Austria was making. [2]

Alfred blinked. "Do what?"

"That." She said motioning with her whole hand to his plate. [3]

"Do what?" He said, ignoring the rather odd motion and focusing on her words.

What exactly was she trying to say?

"I think Ms. Hungary was talking about your eating style." Toris told him to his right a bit hesitantly.

Alfred gently, placed his utensils on the plate and looked up, noticing a few rather bizarre looks he was receiving from his fellow nations. Japan and Estonia in particular seemed to be discussing colonization in whispered tones. For what purpose, or even why Alfred didn't know.

"What about it?" He said casually, feeling a bit uncomfortable with all the scrutiny. He didn't see what the problem was. He was just eating the way he normally did when he was at a restaurant it as nothing special—and then it hit him what Hungary has been trying to get at for the last (absolutely useless) five minutes. "You mean my dining etiquette?"

Toris and Hungary nodded, the later actually looking rather interested as she slid a rather small notebook on to the table.

(Neither Arthur nor Francis were paying attention to the conversation at hand, as the two had once again descended into old arguments over the steak and promptly forgot about the rest of the world. Alfred couldn't help but wonder if maybe there was something going on there besides fighting, because it was beginning to get a little _too_ touchy-feely.)[4]

"Is it really that strange?" Alfred asked, picking up his fork again and spinning it, like one would do a pen. It was a bad habit of his, but it helped him feel a little better.

"Well, no but it does looked rather complex." She told him. "I noticed you tend to change hands, and something use either the front or back of all your utensils, instead of the fork when you eat and—"

"It like a magic show, daze!"

Alfred stared at Yong-Soo, half in exasperation, and half in confusion. "Why a magic show?" He said for lack of anything else to say.

And what could he say?

None of the other nation typically ate with him at a restaurant, and even when a few did do so, the places they ate normal had finger foods, like hamburgers and sandwiches.

"'Cause its so cool!"

Alfred really had nothing to say to that.

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><p><strong>Coins I<strong>

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><p>When other nations first started visiting his country, Alfred often noticed the strange looks that were being thrown his way whenever he paid for something.<p>

Brightly colored paper, with words like "Mechanic Guild" and the "Washington Bank"[5] held room in his wallet for many years until he finally decided on an official appearance for his money.[6]

Though, deep down, Alfred was lying if he said he hadn't been involved in its marking-

"Where the bloody hell are the numbers?"[7]

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><p><strong>Chapter Notes:<strong>

1: In the US, and particularly in the South, staring, while not in a conversation is rude, and makes other people uncomfortable. However, if you having a conversation and don't look at the other person, it means you are either not listening or don't care, both things that are insulting in America. Typically in the North, staring at other things, such a phone, or other people during a conversation is rather accepted unless in a formal setting such a business meeting, when eye contact is vital.

2:Typically Hungarians are more upfront about personal information, then their Austrian counterparts, hence why Rodrick is making faces. Additional, most Americans welcome questions that for many foreigners may be extremely personal. However, there are limits, politics, and money are usual taboo subjects, unless brought up by the American himself. The reason being, is the only two political party views, which unlike Europe (does Asia have political parties? I can't remember) are completely opposite, and tend to start heated arguments. There are people who are moderate, but the rule of thumb is more republican to the South, and more democratic to the North. On the other hand money, can be embarrassing, because people usually don't want to amount how little (in their minds) they are making.

3: In America, it is rude to point at people, but not objects. So people will use their whole hand to motion to a person, but use a finger to point at something, like an apple or fireworks, or so on. Hence why, Alfred is confused about why Elizabeta is motioning to his plate, but using her whole hand.

4: Europeans in general are more touchy-feel then Americans in both how they greet and how much personal space they have. In America standing less then an arms length away is uncomfortable if you are not family, or friends though there are difference depending on gender and personality. Two girls or two boys will typically stand closer then a boy and girl.

5:Before the official dollar appearance was settled in 1796 (a date I'm still not convinced of), each state and territory had its own money and banks, thus if you traveled from New York to Virginia, you could encounter anywhere from three to ten different banks and types of dollars. Typically banks, were made by people who had a certain amount of metals and tried to back them. Depending on the bank, and the rate of trustworthiness money exchanges were incredibly complicated and completely random.

6: Fun Fact, if you look at the US dollars there are no numbers on them. Which leads to no end of amusement when foreigners have to pay. There a myth that the reason for this is because, although Alexander Hamilton really favored England, he still thought they're prices were ridiculous, and devised a way for Americans to get more out of their money by removing numbers and making the dime (which today is worth 10 cents, .08 euros, 11 yen) smaller then the penny (which today is worth 1 cent, 2 euros, 1 yen). But I'm not convinced.

**Author's Note**: Probably the worst chapter I have written to date, but can't really do anything about it. My computer got recalled because its flammable or something or other. Can't really remember. Thus, I only had so much time to type and edit, before posting. I apologize for everyone out there waiting for Realizations, and whom email me, I'm still working on it. Parts of it are still choppy. I'll try to include the other request in the next chapter just really pressed for time.


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